


Here Goes Nothing (Because There's Nothing to Lose)

by quillsand



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Developing Relationship, Grantaire is a Mess, Karate, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Cosette Fauchelevent/Marius Pontmercy, Minor Violence, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Pining, References to Canon, Slow Burn, Trans Enjolras, les amis are a karate club run by valjean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2018-10-26 17:43:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 31,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10791549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quillsand/pseuds/quillsand
Summary: "Ah, so you're one of those."For a second, anger flashes in Enjolras' eyes. "One ofwhat?""An idealist." Grantaire smirks.Enjolras' face is, if possible, even more stony than before. He takes a moment to compose himself, and Grantaire delights in the way he practically has to fight the urge to argue back. Enjolras' discipline really is impressive, Grantaire has to admit. "Whilst I appreciate you mocking my ideals- and believe me, there is a conversation to be had here- I was under the impression we were here to do karate.""You're here to do karate, maybe, for all you know I could be here for the sole purpose of antagonising you." And really, if Grantaire believed in fate, he would say that's exactly why he's here._______A big pile of fluff and feelings disguised as a karate au, in which there are shenanigans, serious conversations, and a ridiculous amount of pining.





	1. Dawn of a New Dawning

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't going to publish this until I had all of it written but I just decided not to do that anymore. Most of it is completed and I'm estimating there to be around 11/12 chapters including this one- it's just a matter of when I get them posted. There's still some things plot-wise to sort out but I'm relatively positive that nothing is going to change within this chapter so ta-da! I'm releasing it earlier than planned :''')
> 
> This fic has been in the works for quite a while so I hope you enjoy !!

There comes a point in life when it's best to admit defeat.

For Grantaire, this point comes four months after Joly and Bossuet's neverending insistence that he accompany them to their karate club.

"I don't even do karate!" Grantaire had protested. "I box! There's a huge difference, I wouldn't have a clue what I'm doing!"

Joly had just given him the puppy eyes in response, until Grantaire had been forced to turn away, lest he cave then and there.

But now- now Grantaire's old boxing club is closing for renovation and it's a well known fact that Grantaire gets restless when he doesn't have boxing to occupy his nights with. Bossuet brings it up casually the week before Grantaire's club is due to close and for the first time Grantaire actually considers making an appearance at this karate club his friends rave about.

That's the thing with not really socialising much, he supposes. All throughout high school and the first years of university, Grantaire could only be what was described as a social butterfly- he'd often be out seven nights a week, and just as often wouldn't be home until the next day. It was a good system of living for the first few years, back when he had full control over the amount of alcohol his body consumed and could stop after a few drinks.

Then the alcohol dependency had started and the blur that Grantaire's second year turned out to be meant he had to re-take it. He doesn't regret that part of his life as much as he probably should- it's how he made some of his closest friends, after all (and then lost quite a few of them, too. Except for Joly and Bossuet, who took him under their wings like a lost puppy and have stayed close ever since, through all the self-destruction and even more destructive attempts at sobriety.)

He's seven months sober at present, and without boxing, Grantaire feels like things have the potential to get bad again. He doesn't think he'd genuinely crack because of the inability to box, (if he was that desperate he'd just go to the gym), but it is a potential pathway to restlessness.

And in Grantaire's experience, restlessness often leads to recklessness.

So when Joly asks him the mandatory, "You fancy joining us this week, R?" he responds with a simple nod, shrugging his shoulders.

Bossuet gapes, pausing with the spoonful of cereal halfway to his mouth and managing to spill most of it down his shirt. "You're serious?"

Grantaire shrugs again. "Sure. I've been putting it off long enough."

Joly grins from ear to ear and practically launches himself at Grantaire, squeezing him tightly. "Oh, R! I knew you'd come sooner or later! You're going to love it so much- I can't wait for you to meet everyone! Oh my god, I _have_  to introduce you to Jehan, you're gonna _love_  them."

Grantaire chuckles, patting Joly on the back absently. It's not the first time he's heard about the rest of the little group that make up ABC Karate and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't at least a little bit intrigued to find out what makes these people so special to Joly and Bossuet.

"It's really great that you're coming, R." says Bossuet in that simultaneously sincere yet casual tone that only he's capable of.

Grantaire smiles. Despite his anxieties about the whole karate thing, he's beginning to think it may not be that bad of an idea after all.

 

* * *

 

This is a Bad Idea.

Grantaire knows this as soon as they drive up to the hall that's halfway to being converted into a karate center, standing tall and seeming to tower above him. Apparently it used to be a cafe before the owner of the club- Mr. Valjean, as he's told- bought it. Grantaire doesn't know how one would go about turning a cafe into a karate club but he's never been one to ask questions.

"Where is everyone?" Grantaire asks as they make their way to the front doors. "Shouldn't there be, like, more people than this?"

"They'll get here." Bossuet waves a hand dismissively, holding the door open for Grantaire and Joly, the latter of whom is using his cane today and thus, as he explained to Grantaire earlier, won't be participating tonight.

"The kids class is on at the minute, the rest will arrive later." Joly explains. "We figured we'd come early so Valjean can get you signed up and everything before the actual class starts. Enjolras and Feuilly usually assist with the kids class, so he should be able to sort things out whilst they take charge for a few minutes."

Grantaire nods, trying to absorb the information. He knows Valjean is the founder of this little club, and he's heard about the other two, Enjolras and Feuilly, in passing before.

Joly and Bossuet lead him to the end of a long corridor, through which Grantaire can make out a large hall- shouts and heavy footsteps come from beyond.

Bossuet opens the door and Joly ushers Grantaire through before he can turn back. In any other situation Grantaire might be annoyed with his friend's assumption that he might try and run, but not now. Now that's a perfectly founded assumption since the last thing Grantaire feels like doing is walking through that door.

"Come on, R." Joly whispers, pushing the end of his cane gently into Grantaire's back and directing him forwards.

Grantaire accepts his fate as he takes the few steps that lead him into the large hall. A few of the kids turn their eyes to stare at him but are sternly reprimanded by the instructor at the front.

Grantaire's eyes are immediately drawn to that instructor. The first word that comes into his mind is 'angelic' as he stares at the man- everything about him looks like he's just walked out of a pre-Raphaelite painting. Grantaire feels the craving to draw stronger than he's felt in years. The yearning to grab a pen and draw is an impulse he's almost forgotten by now and Grantaire only notices he's still staring when Bossuet knocks his arm.

Grantaire blushes, turning away from the beautiful instructor to his friends. Bossuet says nothing, only raising an eyebrow. "That's Enjolras." he tells Grantaire as they walk to a little table to the side, where a man Grantaire assumes to be Valjean sits, sorting through papers, a girl with pretty brown curls sat at his side.

"Mr Valjean!" Joly greets as they approach. "And Cosette, of course." he smiles at the girl sat next to Valjean, who nods up at him in acknowledgement.

"Joly, Bossuet," Valjean greets, nodding to Joly, offering his hand to Bossuet and then to Grantaire. "You must be Grantaire." he smiles and Grantaire's eyes must widen because Valjean laughs. "These two speak a lot of you." he says, smiling kindly at Grantaire.

Grantaire is initially dumbfounded by Valjean. The man looks too severe to be as kind as he appears yet Grantaire feels an innate sense of trust when he looks upon him.

"You shouldn't have too much trouble here," Valjean continues, addressing Grantaire. "We're mainly just getting back into the swing of things now that competition season's over, so the first few weeks will just be recapping some of that. Really, you couldn't have started at a better time." Valjean smiles at him again and Grantaire feels a flicker of guilt deep in his stomach- he doesn't even know if he'll be returning.

From beside Grantaire, Joly beams. "Come on, R, I'll introduce you to the others." Joly nudges Grantaire with his elbow and starts making his way across to where Enjolras and Feuilly have evidently finished teaching the kids, sat in a corner whilst Valjean calls the kids to order.

"Joly!" The one introduced as Enjolras exclaims when he sees Joly and Grantaire approaching. Grantaire only just has time to reflect on how he looks even prettier up close before Enjolras turns his gaze on him. "I'm sorry, I don't know your name." he says, frowning.

"Grantaire." Grantaire supplies, once he's gotten over the shock of being spoken directly to. Like looking into the sun, he thinks.

Enjolras nods, "I'm Enjolras, it's nice to meet you. He/him pronouns, if you will."

Grantaire wonders if he should feel guilty for assuming Enjolras' gender before he was told, but he doesn't have time to dwell on it because Enjolras is still staring at him expectantly and Grantaire feels himself wilt a little under the scrutiny. Joly nudges him in the ribs. "Oh," says Grantaire eloquently. "Uh, he/him too, I guess."

Enjolras' eyes narrow minutely, but not in a way that suggests irritation. Grantaire can't pinpoint the expression so he just smiles instead, hoping it will ease over whatever he's fucked up. Enjolras doesn't smile, but his frown loses it's severity and he extends an arm out to Grantaire, who mirrors the gesture, clasping Enjolras' hand lightly. They only stay in contact for a few seconds but Grantaire can still feel the warmth of Enjolras' palm as he lets go. All he can do is hope that he's not blushing too hard.

Enjolras is first to break eye contact, turning to Joly and starting a conversation.

Grantaire turns to Feuilly, feeling bad for having ignored him so far. Feuilly just smiles, clapping Grantaire on the shoulder once before introducing himself. "Feuilly. He/him."

Grantaire nods and makes a mental note to stop gendering people before he knows their pronouns. It's never really something he's encountered before, but overall he supposes it wouldn't be a bad habit to get into.

"So, how long have you guys been doing this for?" Grantaire asks, with little else to say.

"Valjean opened the place three years ago. I've been coming just a few months short of that, most of the others around the same time. I think Marius was the last to join us, about five months ago."

"So I'm in the hands of experts then?" Grantaire asks jokingly.

Feuilly scoffs. "Sure."

"You're more experienced than me, anyway."

"True enough." Feuilly shrugs and Grantaire finds himself not knowing what else to say. Feuilly is distant, but not in a way that preaches unfriendliness. Grantaire finds himself inexplicably feeling as if Feuilly would be a great person to have a conversation with under different circumstances- 'different circumstances' being if they actually had something to discuss.

Over the next five minutes more and more people arrive. Grantaire finds himself putting faces to names he's heard Joly and Bossuet speak of- it's a little disorientating, to be confronted with all of these people he's so far known only from stories and in conversation from his friends. There's Combeferre, who introduces himself with a handshake, as Enjolras had done; Courfeyrac, who had wasted no time in embracing Grantaire like they'd known each other their entire lives; Eponine, who had only given him a curt nod before engaging in conversation with Marius, who had introduced himself enthusiastically, if a little awkwardly.

Surprisingly, Grantaire doesn't feel as out of place as he'd originally expected. He immediately feels at ease with Jehan, who bounds up to him happily, smiling and clasping his hand before seating themselves next to Grantaire. Bahorel he already knows- from boxing although Grantaire had no idea he also did karate. He shows up five minutes late in true Bahorel fashion and sweeps Grantaire into the customary one armed hug that Grantaire thinks may have been specifically designed to crush him as much as possible.

Once introductions are over with Valjean whistles loudly, using his fingers to call everyone's attention. Grantaire stands listless as everyone seems to fall into lines- it's obvious they have some sort of order from the way they all go to a specific place. Grantaire is wondering whether he should just stand to the side until instructed to do otherwise when he feels a tap on his shoulder. Turning, Grantaire comes face to face with Jehan, who smiles at him before taking Grantaire's hand and tugging him to a spot next to them at the end of the row.

Valjean talks a little about personal development and their goals for the upcoming months, but Grantaire finds himself unable to concentrate, because he's just realised he's standing directly behind Enjolras, and jesus, even the back of his head is insanely attractive.

"Grantaire," Valjean saying his name snaps him back to reality, "You can work with Enjolras just until you're up to speed with the rest of the class." Grantaire understands that he means it without malice (he's not even sure Valjean is capable of malice) but he may as well have just personally ordered for Grantaire's assassination.

Enjolras, for his part, looks perfectly content at being assigned the role of Grantaire's babysitter.

"The rest of you I want to work on your techniques." Valjean continues to a collective groan from the class, save for Bossuet and Combeferre, who actually look mildly pleased.

Enjolras departs from the group to a far corner and waits for Grantaire expectantly. Evaluating his options, Grantaire wonders what the odds are on anyone believing him if he claimed to have a headache and made a run for it.

Probably very small, he reasons.

"So, you're like my own personal Mr Miyagi then?" Grantaire asks as he approaches Enjolras, stood tall and unwavering and looking less than impressed at Grantaire's quip.

"Not a fan of pop culture?" Grantaire chances, which only seems to make the furrow in Enjolras' brow deepen.

"I don't dislike it." he states, an unspoken 'but' in his tone. Enjolras seems to spend a lot of time considering Grantaire, as if he's holding himself back. Grantaire tries not to fold under the pressure Enjolras' scrutiny is putting on him but it's hard. He hates how badly he feels the need to prove himself to Enjolras, but that doesn't seem to stop him from trying.

Grantaire clears his throat. Karate. They're here to do karate. "So what shall we start with, oh wise one."

"You can start by taking your jacket off." Says Enjolras, and Grantaire only realises he's joking by the tiny up-quirk of his mouth. Well, that and the fact that Grantaire isn't wearing a jacket.

Grantaire smiles and laughs, the settling feeling that maybe this won't be too bad after all, maybe he can still salvage this meeting.

"You box, correct?" Enjolras asks, leaving Grantaire no time to wonder just how the hell he knows that.

"I do, yeah."

"I don't have an expansive knowledge of boxing but you should know some of the framework for stances and such, so seeing what you know and what you don't would probably be a good place to start."  
  
Grantaire nods, but his attention is drawn away from Enjolras' speech to the many badges that are sewn on to the front of his karate suit. Grantaire makes a point in not being too involved with activism, but even he recognises the three colours that make up the trans pride flag stitched meticulously next to a patch declaring Enjolras a feminist, and a slogan concerning liberty.

"You are aware that this is a karate club and not a social justice group, right?" Grantaire teases, indicating the patches with his hand.

Enjolras looks up, something wary on his features. "I am." he says, defiant, and Grantaire gets the distinct impression that Enjolras is just daring him to say something. And Grantaire- well, Grantaire can't _not_  when the opportunity is presented so clearly to him.

"Ah, so you're one of those."

For a second, anger flashes in Enjolras' eyes. Crossing his arms over his chest, he takes a step closer to Grantaire. "One of _what_?"

"An idealist." Grantaire smirks as Enjolras' brow knits together. "One of those naive fools who think they can end oppression by sewing activism slogans on to their karate suit."

Enjolras' face is, if possible, even more stony than before. He takes a moment to compose himself, and Grantaire delights in the way he practically has to fight the urge to argue back. Enjolras' discipline really is impressive, Grantaire has to admit. "Whilst I appreciate you mocking my ideals- and believe me, there is a conversation to be had here- I was under the impression we were here to do karate."

"You're here to do karate, maybe, for all you know I could be here for the sole purpose of antagonising you." And really, if Grantaire believed in fate, he would say that's exactly why he's here.

"Unlikely, since you didn't even know me until today."

"Fate works in mysterious ways."

Enjolras narrows his eyes. "Well, if that truly is your reason for being here, then you can leave. I don't take kindly to being antagonised."

And that's that.

Grantaire entertains the notion of taking it further, pushing more, but there's a sinking feeling in his gut. He hadn't meant to seriously offend Enjolras- somewhere along the way his teasing had taken a turn for the worse and he'd ended up being perhaps a bit more abrasive than he'd like.

And yes, maybe there was a part of him that had wanted to provoke Enjolras, but now that that part is gone, Grantaire desperately wants to impress him. He doesn't actually want Enjolras to hate him, but that seems to be the direction they're headed in.

Resigning himself to the inevitable, Grantaire does his bets to copy the stances Enjolras shows him- it's a lot more work than he'd anticipated, learning the specific way to hold your hands, just how much your leg should be bent.

It would probably be much easier, too, if Grantaire could actually focus instead of admiring the way Enjolras' hair glows something magnificent in the pathetic club lighting.

Valjean calls for a break about halfway in and Grantaire finds himself both relieved and disappointed at having an excuse to escape Enjolras' presence. Naturally, he makes his way over to Joly and Bossuet, who are standing in a corner with Bahorel, all three watching him approach expectantly.

"How are you finding it?" Bossuet asks before Grantaire is even within reach.

Grantaire's shrug is answer enough, so Joly, bracing himself against Bossuet's outstretched arm, leans forward slightly to pat Grantaire on the shoulder. Coming from anyone other than Joly would have made it seem a patronising gesture, but as it is, he pulls it off with a certain kind of dignity that makes Grantaire smile.

"You've met Enjolras." Bahorel says from Grantaire's side, and Grantaire hates the way it's not even phrased as a question, like meeting Enjolras is just a fact of life.

Joly's eyes practically light up. "Do you like him? I wasn't sure at first but I really think you two will get along, he's-"

"He doesn't like me." Grantaire says, feeling it more merciful to cut Joly off before he gets too excited for the budding Enjolras-Grantaire friendship celebration.

Joly frowns. "Did he say that?"

"He didn't say it but I could tell."

And who would blame him? Grantaire knows he can be annoying and loud and this, this right here, is why he stopped going out in the first place.

God, even without the alcohol, he's still a pain in the ass.

"I'm sure he likes you just fine." Bossuet says, but he looks unsure, and Grantaire practically deflates.

"Enjolras can be a little intense when you first meet him, but he's as sweet as a kitten really." Bahorel offers and okay, thanks Bahorel, that was an image Grantaire really didn't need right now.

Not wanting to be a downwer, Grantaire smiles his best attempt and takes Bossuet's arm. "Come on, why don't you show me some of those fancy combinations you're always talking about."

Bossuet's eyes light up as he races into position, but Joly moans in distress. "No, R, those are the ones he always falls over on, why would you-"

Beside them, Bossuet falls over with a spectacular ' _crash'_.

 

* * *

 

When they get back to the apartment, Grantaire calls first dibs on the shower, ignoring Bossuet's whine and Joly's pout. Grantaire has never been one for long showers, so it's not long before he re-emerges from the hot water, towelling his hair dry with rigorous effort (it has a tendency to stick up when he leaves it too long and that is _definitely_  something Grantaire can live without. He has it on good authority that the messy hipster look doesn't work for him.)

When he steps into the main room, there's the sound of loud, excited voices from Joly and Bossuet's room. Amongst the familiar sound of his two best friends is another- softer, but just as familiar to Grantaire.

He knocks on the door without pause. He can hear Joly exclaim excitedly from the other side, "Hang on, I think that's him now!"

"You better not be talking about me!" Grantaire shouts back, grinning even though they can't see him yet.

"All good things, R. All good things." That's Bossuet, who sounds just as excited, if not more so, than Joly.

Grantaire snorts. "Sure. Now can I come in or are you guys doing unspeakable things in there?" He says. He trusts that they'll know he's only teasing.

Well, mostly.

"That was one time!" Joly protests indignantly

Very distinctly, Grantaire can hear a girl's laughter and Bossuet's mutter of "Never again."

"Get in here, R!" Joly calls, and Grantaire grins. He covers his eyes as he pushes the door open, ostentatiously making a show of peeking from behind his fingers. Bossuet swats his arm as soon as he gets close enough.

Settling into the spot next to Joly, Grantaire can hear more clearly than he could outside of the door. "R! Dude, I missed you! How've you been?" Musichetta, in all her pixelated glory, beams at him through the screen.

"Hi, Chetta." Grantaire smiles back, unable to hide the grin. "Lovely to see you, as always. I'm doing well, actually- I know, I know, it's a shock, right?"

Musichetta smiles and shakes her head, "Not at all." she says, the lag on Bossuet's laptop making it so that her lips form the words before she says them. "Two little birdies told me you finally caved in and went to karate today." Musichetta says, that devilish grin that Grantaire knows all too well sitting comfortably on her face.

Joly groans. "Chetta _please_ , we have company."

"No nicknames, we're begging you." Bossuet pleads.

Musichetta just laughs at them, sticking out her tongue. "That's not what you say when we're alone."

Joly and Bossuet turn red immediately. Grantaire's laughter joins Musichetta's as Bossuet buries his face in his hands- Grantaire honestly isn't sure what the big deal is. He's heard much worse from these three.

"You guys are sickening." Grantaire says, feigning repulsion.

Musichetta smirks. "You wish you had a relationship as sickening as ours." she says and Grantaire can feel his cheeks heating despite himself. "Which reminds me- how are you doing on the romance front, R? Meet any hot guys at karate?"

"Or girls." Bossuet chimes in.

"Or people." adds Joly.

An image of Enjolras swims to the forefront of Grantaire's mind and he pushes it away with a vengeance. Groaning, Grantaire rolls his eyes at the webcam, "I came out to have a good time and I'm honestly feeling so attacked right now." he says.

Musichetta gives him her best Glare. "Don't use memes against me, Grantaire."

Grantaire gives her a salacious wink. "My dear Musichetta, to answer your earlier enquiry, it is common knowledge that I take many a suitor home with me every night, of all genders- isn't that right you two?" he asks Joly and Bossuet.

"I've never seen anyone." says Joly at the same time Bossuet shakes his head, grinning widely with contained laughter.

"Traitors." Grantaire mutters under his breath.

Musichetta, who has been smiling at them throughout the whole exchange, looks wistfully at the three of them. "I wish I could be there with you guys." she says quietly- the receivers barely pick it up.  
  
From the corner of his eye, Grantaire sees Bossuet reach out and grasp Joly's hand, their fingers locking on to each other and interwining. The sight fills Grantaire with a sort of longing, although he doesn't know what exactly for. "We wish you could be here too." Bossuet whispers. Grantaire isn't sure if Musichetta will be able to hear, but then she smiles sadly and shifts wherever she's sat.

It isn't often that Joly and Bossuet get to speak to their girlfriend- Musichetta lives in Brazil and keeps a super busy work schedule, add in timezones and it leaves a very small window of opportunity for them to actually speak.

Her, Joly, and Bossuet met online a couple of years ago- Musichetta had been one of the first subscribers on Bossuet's (now insanely-popular) youtube channel. They'd started having conversations in the comments of his videos, had eventually exchanged skype details, and have kept up communication ever since. They became official a few months after that, Joly and Bossuet not only realising that they both had crushes on their internet friend, but also on each other too. As far as relationship stories go, theirs is pretty hard to beat.

Musichetta had come to visit for two months last spring, during which time she stayed at the apartment and she's been saving up ever since, to come back- hopefully in the summer.

Grantaire had liked Musichette from the start, but meeting her had been even better. She was tall and loud, unapolagetically funny, and could match him stride for stride in debate. He honestly couldn't think of anyone better suited for either Joly or Bossuet (with the obvious exception of themselves, obviously.)

On the bed next to him, Joly and Bossuet are still holding hands, leaning into each other as they gaze at the screen sized Musichetta in front of them. The moment seems to have taken a turn into the intimate whilst Grantaire wasn't looking, and now he feels an awful lot like an intruder.

As quietly as he can, he moves from Joly's side, standing up from the bed. He pats Joly on the shoulder, whispering. "I'm gonna disappear now, I have a project to finish." He doesn't, and he's pretty sure Joly knows it, but he smiles appreciatively and reaches up to squeeze Grantaire's hand as Grantaire moves to pull it away.

"Thank you." Joly says quietly, and Grantaire nods.

"Bye Chetta," he says in the direction of the laptop, mainly because it would be rude not to.

Musichetta turns to look at him. "You're going? Alright then, bye, R." Grantaire waves at the screen and Musichetta waves back, chuckling. "It was nice seeing you."

"You too." he says, trying to inject as much sincerity into his voice as he can manage.

Closing the door behind him softly, Grantaire makes his way into the kitchen and turns the coffee macine on. Maybe it's not smart to be making coffee at this hour, but Grantaire's never been one for smart choices. He takes the coffee with him into his room and opens his laptop, planning to work on his web design even though he's already satisifed with it and there's nothing left to do except mess around with colour and line variations.

From the room opposite, he can still hear the soft murmur of voices; Bossuet's deep chuckle, Joly's excited chatter, and Musichetta's gleeful tinker all blending together into one sound.

Sitting here, in the dim light with the breeze outside just strong enough to reach him from underneath the covers, Grantaire feels inexplicably lonely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment/review if you liked this first chapter- it would mean a lot, especially since this is my first attempt at writing proper plot! I can't make any promises about when the next chapter will be up but I can reveal that commenting can only make the process faster! Feedback is vital at this stage so please, if you want to see more, the encouragement would be much appreciated! <3
> 
> Also, yes, Grantaire and Enjolras' conversation in part references the film Karate Kid. 
> 
> (Title adapted from 'Somewhere Now' by Green day. Mainly because I associate that whole album with Les Amis haha)


	2. Fight Like You're Running Out of Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras is amazing to watch in a fight- what he lacks in size he makes up for in speed and vigour. He uses his height to his advantage, ducking below Bahorel's sweeps and kicks, even rolling to avoid some particularly low blows. Grantaire is quickly mesmerised by that flurry of movement, the way Enjolras looks in the heat of the moment, all golden and fiery, and practically _glowing_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm back and it's been two weeks but now I have a clear vision of where I'm going with this fic there might be more regular updates on the way :~)
> 
> No warnings for this one!

Following his introduction to the ABC Karate club, Grantaire finds himself inexplicably bumping into all of it's members around campus- wherever he goes he can be almost sure he'll bump into at least one of their number. It makes him wonder just how many times he must have brushed lives with these people before he was even aware of it.

Libraries seem to be Combeferre's natural habitat, for all the times Grantaire has spotted him with a book open in his lap among the tall shelves. Grantaire's sure he's found Combeferre in almost every library across campus. He's been trying to figure out what Combeferre actually studies for ages now, because the libraries Grantaire finds him in give nothing away. He's just everywhere like some kind of- library cryptid, or something. Grantaire would ask but so far the most he's gone to acknowledging the other man is a wave in his direction before hurrying away.

Courfeyrac can often be found in one of the small cafes surrounding the philosophy block- which is strange, because Grantaire really hadn't bagged him as someone who studies philosophy. Sometimes Jehan is with him, and sometimes he's with a bigger group of people that Grantaire doesn't know, nor has any intention of knowing. Either way, Courfeyrac is friendly enough and always invites Grantaire to join them whenever he's around. (Not that Grantaire has actually accepted his offer yet, mind.)

He quite literally bumped into Feuilly on his way to the art block, only stopping to apologise profusely before he realised who it was. Feuilly quite obviously didn't have time to stop and chat but he'd clapped Grantaire on the shoulder and wished him a good day before running off on his way nevertheless.

By far the strangest interaction Grantaire has had was with Marius, who had called to Grantaire from the other side of the union floor, beckoning him over. Grantaire couldn't remember his name at first, which proved obvious after about five seconds into their conversation.

"Marius." Marius had prompted. "Listen, I was looking for Cosette, you haven't seen her have you?"

Grantaire blinked, frowning before the name came to him. _Valjean's daughter_ , right. "I- no, I haven't. Why?"

"Ah, that's- right, okay. Nevermind, I was just- well. No reason, really. Just, well- as I said, no reason. Thanks anyway!" And with that he was gone.

Probably the only member of the ABC Grantaire hasn't run into is Enjolras. For better or for worse, Grantaire's not too sure. They didn't exactly start off on the right foot last week, and Grantaire isn't sure he wants a repeat scenario. Still, there's a sort of anticipatory feeling inside him whenever he thinks about Enjolras which he can't quite understand- it's definitely nothing to do with their thrilling conversation, that's for sure.

It feels like almost no time has passed before a week has gone by, and Joly and Bossuet are once again attempting to convince him to go to karate. It's a Monday night and they're in the middle of watching Planet Earth re-runs when Joly turns to him, all wide-eyed, and Grantaire knows what he's about to say before Joly even has a chance to speak.

"No." says Grantaire, cutting straight to the chase.

"No what?" Joly challenges.

"I'm not going back to karate."

"But why not?" Bossuet asks, returning from the kitchen with fresh popcorn.

 _Great_ , thinks Grantaire, _now it's two against one._

"I'm just not... Feeling it, really."

Bossuet frowns. "You didn't like the others?"

"No, that's not it, I just-" How does he explain that he doesn't belong in their tight-knit group? Grantaire's become almost used too used to solitude now, it's strange to actually _know_  people again. "Don't you think it's a bit weird? I know nothing about karate, and you guys are all so advanced and I'm just... Intruding on your group."

"If only Enjolras could hear that." Bossuet mutters, causing Joly to snort. "He'd have an inner crisis if he thought anyone considered the ABC too exclusive."

"Enjolras doesn't like me." Grantaire supplies.

"Enjolras likes everyone." Joly dismisses, waving a hand.

"Except for capitalists and bigots." Bossuet says solemnly.

"Except for capitalists and bigots." Joly agrees.  
  
"Okay, whatever, my point still stands." Grantaire says, mainly because his heart has picked up considerably during all this talking of Enjolras and Grantaire is no where near ready to consider what that may mean. "I'm not sure if I'm ready to be involved with something like this yet. You're a very lively bunch." Grantaire doesn't even need to have attended multiple sessions to gather that- everyone in the ABC could probably start an uprising if they tried hard enough.

As expected, Joly's expression changes. Grantaire almost feels bad for pulling the pity card on him, but if there's one way to get his friends off of his back, it's reminding them about his oh-so-fragile mental state.

"Obviously you should do what you think is best." Joly says, Bossuet nodding along. "And if you really want us to stop asking you about karate, we will. If you're not ready, we won't make you do anything. But, Grantaire? I think this could be really good for you. The ABC are a lot to handle, I know, but they're also some of the best people I know. Just consider giving them a chance, yeah?"

"If I agree, can we go back to David Attenborough?" Grantaire asks desperately. There's only a certain amount of sincerity he can handle in one night, and Joly just about hit the limit in a few sentences.

"Of course."

"Right, then yes. I will consider it. Happy?"

"Immensely." Bossuet says, whilst Joly hums, hitting the play button on the remote.

Grantaire reaches for the popcorn and tries to ignore the weight in his chest.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The world, it seems, is not working in Grantaire's favour. Not even twenty-four hours after Grantaire's musings about Enjolras being the one member of ABC Karate that he hasn't ran into- that's exactly what happens.

They're in the Lamarque Library opposite the philosophy building, Grantaire desperately trying to get the check out machine to work- he needs this book for his web design project, damnit. Swearing under his breath, Grantaire turns and-

There's Enjolras, who's eyes widen slightly when he catches sight of Grantaire. He's dressed in a red plaid shirt which somehow makes his hair stand out _even more_ , clutching a book under his arm- Grantaire can't see the title from where Enjolras has it against his chest, but it looks heavy.

"I take it the machine is out of order then?" Enjolras asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Grantaire says, at a loss. Maybe Enjolras doesn't remember him- although Grantaire could've sworn that was recognition in Enjolras' eyes just a second ago. "You, uh, needed to get a book out?"

Enjolras doesn't act as predicted to the laughable question, instead giving Grantaire a one-armed shrug as much as he's able to whilst carrying a thick book. "I was hoping to, but it's not imminent. I can wait until the enquiry centre is open." he says, walking back to the shelf.

"Yeah, same here." says Grantaire, even though, no, he really can't.

Enjolras puts his book down on the reserved tray, face-down, so Grantaire still can't read the title. After a moment's hesitation, Grantaire follows suit.

"This university could really do with better equipment." says Grantaire, grasping at straws for any relevant topic that will keep Enjolras talking to him.

"This university could really do with better funding." Enjolras quips back.

"Under this government? Unlikely." says Grantaire, forgetting to filter his words just a moment too late. He glances sideways to Enjolras, but Enjolras just looks amused, as if he's unsure whether to argue back or agree.

"Under a different government, perhaps."

"A different government wouldn't solve anything." Grantaire argues, pulse picking up. It's the most delicious adrenalin rush, talking like this with Enjolras.

"It would if enough people supported the movement and put pressure on those in power to change it."

"Ah, but then people would have to care."

"You think people wouldn't care?" Enjolras turns to him, fixing his gaze on Grantaire.

Grantaire shrugs, doing his best to maintain eye contact and failing at somewhere around five seconds. "Some people, maybe. The majority of people? Hell no."

"The majority of people _do_  care. The population of those who vote is consistently higher than those who don't."

"And out of those who vote, who does it just because they actually believe in what they're voting for? I think you'll find whatever source you're using has no correlation to the actual number of people who care."

"You have a very cynical view, don't you?"

"Are you deflecting?" Grantaire asks gleefully.

Enjolras smiles begrudgingly. "Not at all. People are autonomous beings- whatever reason they have for doing something is still a reason for doing it, it still proves people value democracy. The voices of people who do something because they believe in it are undoubtedly louder than those who do things for the reasons you just gave."

"Whatever," Grantaire shrugs. "The issue is that there still wouldn't be enough people who cared enough to actually get a motion through about university funding."

"What about the large number of people who attend protests? Who speak out for change? What about all of the student demonstrations that have led us to where we are today? The millions of people who sign petitions daily?"

"Please don't tell me your one of those who thinks a couple thousand signatures on a petition will ever be enough to actually change anything."

Enjolras' easy expression turns into a frown. "It may not be enough to change anything, but it's enough to show people care, which is the first step towards change."

"If you say so." Grantaire says, because he doesn't like the way the atmosphere seems to have shifted.

"I do." Enjolras says stubbornly.

"Well then, I guess we'll have to agree to disagree." Grantaire says.

"I guess we will." Enjolras says, eyeing him skeptically. "Will you be at karate later?" he asks, probably the least tactful change of topic known to man. Still, at least it proves Enjolras actually knows who he is and wasn't randomly chatting politics to a stranger in the library.

"I- maybe?" Grantaire says. Joly and Bossuet haven't brought up the subject since the other night, and Grantaire hasn't really followed through on his promise to consider going- but Enjolras doesn't need to know that.

"You should come." Enjolras says then, "I know the others will be happy to see you back."

Grantaire notes Enjolras' use of 'the others'- he obviously isn't including himself within the category of people who would be happy to see Grantaire back. Grantaire's not sure how he feels following this revelation. Truthfully, it was nothing more than he'd expected- but still. Ouch.

"Yeah, well. I'll see, I guess." Grantaire says, trying to inject something cheerful into his tone.

"Great." Enjolras says. There's a moments awkward pause before Enjolras speaks again. "Well, I'd better be going. See you later?"

"Yeah, see you."

Enjolras nods to him, just once, before turning on his heel and walking through the door. Grantaire exhales deeply once he's gone, turning back to the reserved tray and picking up the book he'd left there. He can't take the book out so he'll just have to do his work here, Enjolras or no. The temptation to look at the book Enjolras had been reading sweeps over him, but Grantaire stops himself. It feels like a breach of his privacy, even though Enjolras hadn't deliberately meant to hide the book from Grantaire.

He leaves it where it is, taking his web design book and opening it on a random page. He manages to get through five chapters without retaining a single thing, his mind elsewhere.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Grantaire goes to karate; Joly and Bossuet are almost out the door, giving Grantaire their best puppy eyes as they close it, when Grantaire leaps forwards.

"Wait!"

Joly beams as Bossuet cheers. Grantaire isn't fully sure this isn't a decision he won't regret, but for now, it's enough to see his friends happy.

This time, when they arrive at the Musain, the kids class are already leaving and many of those from the adults class are warming up. Grantaire spots Jehan in the corner of the room stretching their legs, and he makes his way to them before he can change his mind.

Enjolras and Feuilly are dragging the mats out and arranging them in a way that makes no sense to Grantaire, but he pays them little mind as he wanders over to Jehan.

Jehan's eyes seem to light up when they see him, "R!" They exclaim, scrambling out of the stretch their doing to jumo up and hug him, "I'm so glad you came back!"

Grantaire laughs a bit awkwardly; Jehan's a lovely person (he doesn't think anyone else has ever taken such a short time to start referring to him as 'R',) but they're very tactile and it sometimes leaves Grantaire wondering how to react.

"Course I came back," Grantaire attempts a weak smile, sitting down and attempting to copy the position he'd seen Jehan in earlier.

Him and Jehan make small talk until the class oficially starts- once again Grantaire has no idea what to do, and once again Jehan tugs him up to stand next to them in line, directly behind Enjolras.

Valjean makes quick introductions before telling the class to get started on three-step sparring. Thanks to Grantaire's arrival, there seems to be an odd number of people, so he's unsure what to do until Valjean calls him over to the side of where everybody is partnering up.  
"I thought I could work one-on-one with you today," Valjean explains kindly; Grantaire only just notices how soft his voice seems, "They all need to practice their combinations anyway, so if it's no problem with you, I think we can get started."  
  
Grantaire nods, baffled. There's something about Valjean that just... confuses him.

As far as teachers go, Valjean is an excellent one. Grantaire can see why he chose to open up a karate center- after the first ten minutes of being taught by him his foot posture is correct and he finally has his stance right. It's a lot different to boxing, a lot more stationary, a lot more technical- but by the end of the lesson he's almost getting the hang of the basic form.

"You're a fast learner," Valjean says appraisingly once they've finished, "I hope you choose to keep coming back here, we could use you on our team."

Grantaire stares at him, but there's no way even he can find fault that the man is lying; he practically radiates earnesty. Instead he finds himself nodding. "Thanks."  
Valjean claps him on the shoulder once before moving off to the rest of the class.

Grantaire looks around after Valjean, and immediately realises something is different.

The blue mats that usually surround the hall have all been pushed together to form one giant square in the centre of the floor. Enjolras and Bahorel stand in the middle of the mat, both of them practicing kicks and stretches, whilst the rest of the group sits along the edges.

Grantaire makes his way over to Eponine who is sat on the outskirts of the mat, in the process of wrapping her feet. She looks up when Grantaire approaches and gives the briefest nod of acknowledgement- her standard greeting, Grantaire has come to find.

"So, uh, what's going on exactly?" Grantaire asks, indicating the mats.

Eponine looks up just long enough to catch his gaze. "I forgot you were new." she says absently, "Once a month we have a session dedicated to sparring. It always seems to happen on the third Wednesday, though Valjean insists it's completely random."

Grantaire hums in thought- "So, Bahorel and Enjolras, they're going to..?"

"Fight, yeah." Eponine looks up, grinning. "Not just them, though. We'll probably all have been through one another by the time the day's through."

Grantaire must look skeptical because Eponine laughs. "You've never seen him fight before have you?"

For a second, Grantaire thinks she's talking about Bahorel, and he's about to correct her, because yes, he has seen Bahorel fight- he's _fought_  Bahorel before- but then he notices her gaze is on Enjolras.

Oh.

"No, I haven't." he admits.

Eponine's grin widens, but she doesn't say anything else.

While they wait for everyone else to arrive, another thought occurs to Grantaire- will he be included in the fighting? He's new, but that doesn't necessary guarantee his exclusion- after all, he did boxing and Valjean knows that, surely that means he won't count him out? Grantaire's pretty sure Valjean would never make him go through with something he's uncomfortable about, but he's also pretty sure that he doesn't want to go through the humiliation of being the only one not fighting.

Back on the mat, Bahorel and Enjolras have apparently finished stretching and are now stood, chatting idly. Grantaire takes in the considerable height difference between them- Bahorel must be at least a head taller than Enjolras, and he has considerable more muscle too. Although, Grantaire considers, maybe that could work in Enjolras' favour. After all, karate is different to boxing. Grantaire's never observed a proper karate match before so he's not sure how different exactly it'll be- but he knows from experience that Bahorel is pretty fast with his punches.

If what Eponine says is true though, they've probably fought each other many times before- plus, neither of them actually look worried, so Grantaire figures he should probably stop being worried too.

(He also knows how much Enjolras would hate being worried about, and how irrational it is of Grantaire to even think he needs worrying about but- it's not like he can help it.)

Valjean calls the class to order after a little while and after a nod to each other, Bahorel and Enjolras step away from each other and take up a fighting stance.

Grantaire isn't sure what he's expecting, but it's certainly not for Enjolras to rush in straight away. In boxing, there's usually some build up whilst opponents seize each other up, but there's not time for that here. Enjolras moves so quick he's like a blur to Grantaire's eyes and then he's aiming a kick at Bahorel's side. Bahorel steps to the side just in time, barely avoiding stepping off of the mat. He retaliates by moving his elbow in a spot below Enjolras' ribs, which Enjolras blocks by sharply turning his arm inwards.

They move like that for quite some time and Grantaire begins to see what Eponine meant with her cryptic smiles and questions. Enjolras is amazing to watch in a fight- what he lacks in size he makes up for in speed and vigour. He uses his height to his advantage, ducking below Bahorel's sweeps and kicks, even rolling to avoid some particularly low blows. Grantaire is quickly mesmerised by that flurry of movement, the way Enjolras looks in the heat of the moment, all golden and fiery, and practically _glowing_.

Bahorel, for his part, is countering all of Enjolras' attacks with attacks of his own. Enjolras tries to get in a punch to Behorel's head, but Bahorel counters with a simple headblock, using his other arm to hit where Enjolras left his middle exposed.

Valjean calls out one point to Bahorel and Bahorel grins. Enjolras backs off quickly, using the balls of his feet to jump out of Bahorel's reach before he can get another hit in. Bahorel lunges forward in a stretching punch to Enjolras' side, but changes direction at the last minute, spinning on his heel to face Enjolras' front.

The temptation to close his eyes is strong; Enjolras wasn't prepared for that hit and Grantaire is fully expecting Bahorel to get another point in when seemingly out of nowhere both of Enjolras' palms come down flat against Bahorel's wrist, blocking the blow to his stomach. The movement is so fast that Grantaire barely registers what's going on, but then Enjolras has Bahorel's wrists trapped between his palms.

The move obviously takes Bahorel by surprise too; he's slow to pull his arm away, giving Enjolras the opportunity to use his grip to yank Bahorel forwards. Unbalanced, Bahorel has to put out a hand to steady himself, which is when Enjolras' kick makes contact with his stomach.

Valjean calls out the second point to Enjolras, making the score one to one.

Before he can move away, Bahorel turns around and grabs hold of Enjolras' still outstretched leg. Enjolras' eyes widen in surprise, but he keeps his balance, leaning backwards to compensate the weight of his right foot.

Bahorel shifts his body so that Enjolras is forced to move further down, the leg Bahorel has hold of almost entirely in the air. Grantaire can see Enjolras' ankle slipping- he won't be able to balance for much longer. Enjolras evidently knows this too, for he jumps back on the foot that's still connected to the ground, but pushes his upper body forward at the same time. Grantaire watches, enraptured, as Bahorel loses his grip on Enjolras' foot and Enjolras stumbles back, wobbling a little before regaining his balance.

There's a cheer from the sides- Courfeyrac, it sounds like- and Enjolras' lips turn up just a fraction. Bahorel grins at him again, and then they're back at it.

Enjolras aims a kick that Bahorel blocks; Bahorel tries a stab that Enjolras dodges before retaliating with a palm strike. Grantaire is watching them go back and forth until eventually one of Enjolras' punches catches Bahorel on the chest.

"Two one to Enjolras, one more point to win. Bahorel two to win."

Bahorel obviously takes this as the moment to increase his game plan, he moves towards Enjolras swiftly, keeping up a steady stream of punches until Enjolras is forced to back into the corner of the mat. Bahorel dives in with an elbow strike now that Enjolras has nowehere else to go; Enjolras' eyes flash to Grantaire for a very brief second before he moves to the outside of Bahorel's arm, leaning against the strike that was meant for him in order to propel his body to the other side of the mat.

Bahorel is facing away from Enjolras when Enjolras' side kick hits the dead centre of his back, knocking him off balance and off of the mat. There's gracious applause as Enjolras breathes heavily in the centre of the mat, smiling ever so slightly.

Bahorel re-joins him after Valjean announces Enjolras as the winner; they smile and then shake hands, Bahorel clapping Enjolras on the neck as he holds his hand in the air. Enjolras laughs, pulling out of the embrace to take his place on the floor next to Bossuet.

Grantaire is too busy watching Enjolras- the way he's smiling, unrestrained and happy, as if he's dropped the collected exterior somewhere during the fight- so it takes him a few seconds to realise his name is being called.

"You up for it?" Bahorel asks, grinning, once he has Grantaire's attention.

Grantaire hesitates, but then, "Sure." he says, shrugging. If he had to fight anyone, he's glad it's Bahorel. Even if it's a different style of fighting, Bahorel is familiar, and Grantaire likes to think he has a slight advantage, having just watched Bahorel spar with Enjolras; he knows his style.

  
Valjean reads through the rules again as Grantaire faces Bahorel, the latter with an impressively wide smirk on his face. They'd seemed simple when he was listening to Valjean recite them to Enjolras and Behorel but now Grantaire's the one on the mat, he struggles to hear a word Valjean is saying.

"No punching or kicking below the belt, no punching or kicking above the waist. Light touch only, keep your guards up and eyes on each other. Three hits to win. Begin!"

Him and Bahorel circle around the mat a few times before Bahorel makes the first move: a jab to Grantaire's shoulder. Grantaire blocks by turning his body to the left and ducking to avoid the blow. Aiming a right hook to Bahorel's side and being unsurprised when it misses, Grantaire goes back to skipping on the balls of his feet as he waits for Bahorels' next attack.

Throughout the rest of the match Grantaire is well aware that it's far more like a boxing fight than a karate one; however he's pretty sure no one minds- they all know he's new and if he didn't use at least _some_  of the moves in his boxing itinerary then Bahorel would probably eviscerate him in seconds.

Bahorel, too, fights Grantaire differently than he fought Enjolras- maybe it's because he knows Grantaire's useless at karate and wanted to give him an at least decent chance, but Grantaire expects it's just their normal routine. (Plus, Bahorel's really not the type of guy to go easy on someone, no matter what anyone says.)

By the end of the match Grantaire has got in one decent cross punch to Bahorel's middle and a few close calls elsewhere; Bahorel wins, which surprises approximately no-one, but hey, at least he tried.

Cosette and Feuilly are called up to fight next which interests Grantaire: he's never seen Cosette do karate before- she was spectating last time Grantaire was here. Grantaire doesn't know much about Cosette at all aside from the fact that she's Valjean's daughter, but what he does know is enough to instantly draw him to her.

Cosette fights like she's been doing it her whole life (and she very well may have been doing, Grantaire wouldn't know) and it shows when she aims a round kick that hits Feuilly right in the gut. Grantaire winces even though he's sure Cosette is enough of a professional to know how to kick without the impact. Feuilly just smiles and advances with a parry of punches that Cosette manages to block all but one. The winning point goes to Cosette after much effort- even Grantaire had been holding his breath by the end of it.

By the time the session finishes Eponine has been proven right once again; almost everyone in the ABC did fight against each other (excluding Grantaire on account of what he calls 'newbie privileges'.)

Enjolras won every fight he'd been in, leaving Grantaire mesmerised. If he wasn't already enthralled by his passion and flawless movement, he sure was by his fighting style.

It's the image of Enjolras with his leg poised in the air, leaning back on his heel that sticks in Grantaire's mind that night, and it's the image that makes him pick up a pencil and sketchpad for the first time in months.

He doesn't get very far with the drawing, it's not even that _good_ , but it's a start.

He doesn't think he'll put up much of a fight next week.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thank you for reading!
> 
> Within the karate storyline I'm reluctant to use too much terminology because A) a lot of it probably won't be understood without explanations and B) the terminology differs hugely depending on what style of karate it is- eg I practice wadoryu but as far as I can tell that's definitely not one of the more common types- especially in America. If any terminology ever does come up I'll put an explanation in the notes at the end but also please remember this is from Grantaire's perspective so he's not really going to know it either- I guess I'll just use it as Grantaire learns it :~)
> 
> also i just realised that i have so far forgot to mention what belt everyone is so,,,,, next chapter guys. next chapter.
> 
> please leave a comment/some sort of feedback if you can !!!! there's nothing more precious to me than someone's opinion on my work- especially this one bc as i said before, it's my first attempt at /plot/ and it's v scary. (also my first time writing what could probably be classed as an action scene in this chapter so. yeah.)
> 
> thank you for reading !!! (again) you can find me on tumblr at tattoograntaire


	3. Above The Rain And Roses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One particular album catches Grantaire's eye, called 'London Pride 2016'- on the cover photo Enjolras is smiling widely, sat upon Bahorel's shoulders and clutching a blue, pink, and white flag in one fist, the other waving directly at the camera. Inside the album are more photos, supposedly from the same event- in it Grantaire finds the photo Enjolras has used as his profile picture: one of him grinning brightly with Combeferre and Courfeyrac on either side. There's something almost tender about the photos, and Grantaire closes the window abruptly, feeling like a nosy onlooker into this particular window of Enjolras' life.
> 
> ***
> 
> In which Grantaire gets some news, meets the Juliet to Jehan's Romeo, and has some alone time with Enjolras.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is 7k and I don't know what happened, one minute it was sitting in my drafts as 3k and then the next thing I know.... this.
> 
> I doubt all updates will be this long but I feel like this one covers a lot- we're about to start the actual plot part of the plotline, folks!

Almost a week later and Grantaire finds himself just as worn out and tired as ever. It seems like every time he hands in an assignment, he immediately receives another, leaving next to no time for anything else. Grantaire is almost relieved when Monday rolls round again, too tired by the inactivity of the weekend to miss it much.

"Joly!" Grantaire calls out Tuesday morning, leafing through the post on the kitchen side whilst eating the toast he made for breakfast, "Why is there a letter addressed to me from professor Gros?"

  
Joly's head pops up from behind the doorway into his and Bossuet's room. "No idea, R." he says brightly, "Why don't you open it and find out?"

"I was going to." Grantaire grumbles. "That was my way of subtly calling you in here for moral support. Bossuet would have understood."

(As it happens, Bossuet isn't here at the minute- having accidentally signed up for eight am lectures at the start of the semester, he now has insanely early mornings which neither Grantaire nor Joly receive much pleasure in sharing with him.)

Joly huffs a laugh and uses the doorframe to help him as he makes his way into the kitchen. "Looks official." he says, peering over Grantaire's shoulder at the seal on the envelope.

"I should open it, right?" Grantaire asks, thumbing over the crease where the paper has been folded.

"That's generally what people do with letters, yes."

"Piss off." Grantaire says, playfully swatting Joly with the letter. "You can leave if you're just going to make fun."

There's no real heat behind the words, though, and Joly seems to know this, for he only laughs lightly before sinking into a chair and gesturing for Grantaire to continue.

"They probably just want to confirm I'm still in study or something." Grantaire muses. "Maybe return that God awful piece Gros used as a display that one time. Something like that."

"Mhmmm." Joly agrees, bless his patience.

"It won't be anything serious." Grantaire says, still fiddling with the letter.

"Grantaire?"

"Yes?"

"Get on with it."

"Right." Grantaire says, taking a deep breath. "Right. Yeah, okay." He tears the letter, disregarding the fancy seal and ripping from the top instead. Quickly scanning the page, a heavy weight seems to settle in his stomach.

_Fuck._

Groaning, Grantaire lets the letter fall in front of him before following it's path down with his head. The cold wood of the counter is a welcome sensation to the pressure that seems to be building in his skull. He's briefly aware of Joly's nimble fingers scooping up the letter, but he can't really find it in himself to care.

After a few minutes, Joly taps his head with two fingers and Grantaire grudgingly pulls his head up off of the counter.

"This could be a good thing." Is the first thing Joly says, which, yeah, makes sense, because Joly can be classified as one of those rare type of people who possess the ability to see the bright side of any situation.

"How." Grantaire says and it's not even a question.

"Gros wants to meet with you to discuss switching courses. And he says he has a teaching opportunity. Grantaire that could be amazing! You could paint again!"

"Joly, the whole reason I changed courses in the first place was to _avoid_  having to paint again. Painting never did me any good and I was never going to make a career out of it."

Joly bites down on his lower lip. "Honest opinion?" he asks hesitantly.

Grantaire nods without pause. "Sure."

"You loved painting. You were great at it. It's been- what, eight months? Since you've painted anything? I know there were issues with the... With the alcohol, but... Have you tried painting anything since? If you don't like it, you don't have to continue with it, but this is a good opportunity."

"Fuck." Grantaire says, because it represents most accurately what he's feeling. "I don't even- fuck."

"R?"

"No, I'm... I'm just," Grantaire breaks off, running a hand through his hair and sighing. "I don't even know where to begin. I'm happy now. Without painting, I'm happy. I'm better now. I don't- it's not about the alcohol. Painting was never going to be a suitable career path- I mean, what's the point of it, really? Spend three years wasting my parent's money learning to paint so that I can go and do what? Work in retail? At least with my course right now I can actually work towards a career, you know? I don't need painting and I'm fine without it and I don't even know why Gros is contacting me- I was never a good student! My art was always mediocre even at the best of times. It just- it doesn't make any sense. I'm fine as I am."

"Are you though?" Joly's voice asks quietly.

Grantaire shrugs in response. "Pretty much, yeah."

Joly is still looking at him skeptically. Grantaire can almost feel his temper rising. "What?" he spits out waspishly.

"You don't go out as much." he says and Grantaire has to fight back the urge to laugh. "For as long as I've known you, you've been an extrovert, and recently it's like you aren't even aware other people exist! Getting you to come along to karate was nothing short of a miracle, you'd basically isolated yourself from everyone!"

"Have you ever considered that the reason I was always so extroverted was because I was always drunk?" asks Grantaire. He's not even angry anymore just tired. So, so tired.

Joly shakes his head emphatically. "No! No, even before that! I wasn't trying to insinuate- nevermind. I only meant that you've always thrived on company and I'm worried because recently the only company you've had is me and Bossuet. It can't be good for you."

Grantaire understands what Joly is saying, but there's another part of him that is determined to hear something different: maybe Joly is only bringing this up because he _wishes_  Grantaire had other friends, that Grantaire spent more time with them and less time third-wheeling him and Bossuet. It's a nasty thought and Grantaire is fierce in pushing it away. He won't let old insecurities get the best of him- even so, his next sentence comes out snappy and spiteful.

"Neither was drinking myself half to death." replies Grantaire and he can practically see Joly shrink back. He doesn't remember much from those night when he was too drunk to properly stand but he knows Joly does- Joly was there, and Joly stayed. For the first time during this argument, Grantaire feels like an ass.

"Of course not." Joly replies quickly. "But they don't have to be tied together, you know? You don't have to drink to socialise."

Grantaire lets that statement wash over him for a second before he decides that there's no use in arguing. Joly doesn't get it- for a good two years or more of Grantaire's life, alcohol and socialising had gone hand in hand. By the end of his third year at university, Grantaire didn't know how to talk to people without drinking.

Of course, Joly has never experienced that. Joly can interact with people in any state- okay, so maybe he's not as charismatic as Courfeyrac, but he has an easy air about him that remains there indifferent to how sober he is.

"Just think about it." pleads Joly, obviously realising he's not getting a response from Grantaire. "Think about Gros, and the opportunity. Please."

"Sure." says Grantaire, flashing Joly a quick and fleeting flicker of a smile before grabbing his coat. "I'm off for a walk. See you later." he throws back over his shoulder, because sure, he's upset and a little pissed off, but Joly will worry himself senseless if he thinks Grantaire is getting himself into trouble.

"Be safe!" Joly calls as Grantaire exits the apartment. "Take an umbrella!"  
  


* * *

 

 

Grantaire leaves the apartment in a considerably worse mood than he'd expected. The letter- which, let's be real, was much more on the aggressive side of 'passive aggressive'- had been a complete surprise and, given the opportunity, Grantaire would happily forget all about it.

As it is, the thought of Gros' offer occupies his mind for the duration of the walk from his apartment to the centre of the city. With no real destination in mind, Grantaire simply walks on down the river, sidestepping tourists left right and centre. When he'd first moved away from home this had been his favourite thing to do and he'd hoped that the route would provide some sort of comfort.

It doesn't.

 _The thing is_ , Grantaire tells himself as he leans against the railings, the thing is- he's _not_  doing as well in graphic design as he'd like; it's much harder to get his head around and he misses the simplicity of just being able to grab a paintbrush and paint.

He misses it.

But that's something he can't have, and that's something he won't _allow_  himself to have.

He hasn't even looked at a paintbrush since he put down a bottle. He probably wouldn't even be able to use the goddamn thing.

He doesn't even know why Gros _wants_  him back. The letter had been terribly vague.

" _Grantaire,_

_Following your abrupt departure from the course, I request a meeting with you as soon as possible. As you seem to be unreachable via e-mail, I do hope this finds you without any complications._

_The university has informed me that your current course will not allow you to progress with sufficient credits. It is for this reason that I request an audience with you. Past experiences do not present you as an exemplar student but I have an arrangement that may be suitable for us both. What I am proposing is seeing your original course to it's end alongside your current course. I enquire you to show up to the meeting I have set aside on Friday- it is in your best interests to do so._

_Gros_ "

Grantaire would like nothing more than to throw the letter into the river this very second, but he holds back. He's been fretting about his credits for a while now, but never enough to come up with a solution.

That's the problem with pushing problems to the back of your mind, he supposes, when they eventually do come forward you're in no way equipped to deal with them.

What Gros is proposing is a potential solution to Grantaire's problem- or, at least, it would be, if it were conceivable that Grantaire could actually go back to being taught by Gros.

Grantaire's history with the professor is... complicated, at the very least. He'd been in the old man's good graces, once- his favourite student, some had said. He was aware that the other students had often looked at him with thinly veiled envy- although what there was to be envious of, Grantaire isn't sure. He knows, distantly, that Gros is a fairly big deal in the art world, but, truthfully, it had never made much an impression on him.

It wasn't until he failed his second year that Grantaire realised how much he depended on Gros' support; the professor hadn't hesitated to drop him once Grantaire started showing less than acceptable behaviour, and Grantaire had overestimated his own abilities when it came to working without Gros there to guide him.

It was all his own fault, and Grantaire _knows_  that- but he still regrets how things ended. That's a memory he really doesn't want to dredge up right now, but the fact remains that Gros seems to be extending an olive branch- however tenuously- and Grantaire has no intention of taking it.

Whilst he's having an internal dilemma, his feet carry him to Hartsholme Park. He can feel his anger at Joly dissipating slowly, although there'd never really been much to begin with. His friend means well, and Grantaire knows he's lucky that he has someone who will go to such lengths for him but- still.

Grantaire is watching an old man feed some ducks when he hears his name being called.

"Grantaire! R! Over here!"

Grantaire turns almost by instinct and at first does not recognise the person standing in front of him. At closer inspection he discerns it to be Jehan- Grantaire has only ever run into Jehan at the university before, and so the pale purple leggings and printed red blouse come as a bit of a surprise.

Jehan is smiling at him widely, showing braces among two perfectly white sets of teeth. Grantaire gives them a small wave before realising that he's going to have to go over and make conversation.

"Hey, Jehan," Grantaire says as he approaches. "What's up?"

"Nothing much." replies Jehan, still grinning broadly. "I'm just waiting for-"

"Jehan?" a voice behind them calls, and both Jehan and Grantaire turn around rapidly.

Grantaire's not sure what to make of the stranger making his way towards them except- _damn_. Dressed in all black despite the notable summer heat, with sunglasses that look like they cost more than Grantaire's entire wardrobe, the only discrepancy within their outfit is the ice cream cones they're carrying- one in each hand. Making their way over to Jehan, the stranger hands them one of the ice cream cones, at which Jehan squeals delightedly.

Grantaire is confused.

"Sorry, love," the stranger says to Jehan, "they didn't have sprinkles."

"It's alright, it's prefect anyway, thank you." Jehan smiles, lciking their ice cream before reaching up to peck the stranger on the cheek.

Grantaire is even more confused.

"Oh!" Jehan says suddenly, apparently remembering that Grantaire exists. "I forgot- Grantaire, this is Montparnasse, Montparnasse this is Grantaire."

Montparnasse looks over to Grantaire and holds his gaze. Grantaire doesn't offer his hand to shake because he's pretty sure Montparnasse wouldn't take it, but after a brief period of Very Intense eye contact, Montparnasse inclines his head towards Grantaire. Grantaire returns the gesture.

"Montparnasse is my boyfriend." Jehan explains, taking Montparnasse's hand and intertwining it with their own. "Montparnasse, Grantaire goes to my karate."

Grantaire has only been 'going' to Jehan's karate for two weeks, but he appreciates the introduction all the same.

Something in Montparnasse perks up at this. "Karate? Well, I hope you're ready to get your ass kicked in September."

Grantaire's face twists into confusion. Wait, what?

Beside him, Jehan groans. "It is most definitely not us who will be getting our arses kicked." they say defiantly. "We beat you last year."

"And we beat you the year before that." Montparnasse says, smug.

"Yeah, well this year we're going to beat you _again_. It is as inevitable as the going down of the sun."

"So poetic."

"You know me."

Grantaire blinks. "I'm sorry- what are we talking about?" he asks no one in particular.

Jehan turns back from where they were staring up at Montparnasse and squints at him. "That's right, you won't know yet. Basically, every year our area has a regional karate contest, and the ABC and the Patron-Minette- that's Montparnasse's group, by the way- go head to head. We've beat them twice since the club opened."

Montparnasse stays silent.

Grantaire raises his eyebrows. "It's a big deal?"

Jehan shrugs. "I mean, as far as competitions go, it's not the _most_  competitive, but it is fun, yeah. Talk to Enjolras or Bahorel about it, they love it."

Huh. Grantaire didn't know any of this- unsurprising, since he has relatively little experience in terms of karate, but it does strike him as odd that Jehan and Montparnasse would be so close, whilst being on opposite teams.

"So does it ever get complicated for you guys? Having to go against each other?" Grantaire asks with a smile- he wants to make sure Jehan knows he's only teasing. Fortunately, he needn't have worried- Jehan laughs loud and cheerful before blushing to their roots.

"Well, actually, there was a bit of animosity at the start but... I think everyone's used to it now. Right, dear?"

"Mhhhm." Montparnasse agrees, squeezing Jehan's hand.

"We actually kept it hidden for a while, at the start." Jehan muses, absently stroking over the back of Montparnasse's palm with their thumb. "It was all very Romantic."

Grantaire thinks, very quietly, that only Jehan could consider hiding a relationsip romantic. He can't imagine how such a pair could have possibly met, but he doesn't want to appear too nosy by asking, however willing Jehan seems to divulge information about their relationship.

"Very Romeo and Juliet-esque." he says instead.

Jehan latches on to the metaphor at once. "Yes!" they say excitedly. "Although our tale didn't end in death."

"Yet." says Montparnasse. Grantaire doesn't know how to react, but Jehan obviously has no such issue- they laugh, giggling into Montparnasse's side.

"Yet." they agree.

"Right," Grantaire says, because as lovely as this was, he's starting to feel like an intruder to their Young Love. "I'd better get going. It was nice to meet you, Romeo." he says, gesturing to Montparnasse.

Montparnasse scrunches up his nose. "I wouldn't be Romeo." he says flatly.

Jehan hums. "Yes, he's right- _I'd_  be Romeo. 'Parnasse is much more of a Juliet type."

Grantaire thinks that's a smile he sees tugging at the corner of Montparnasse's lips- either that or Grantaire simply hadn't noticed the dimples before.

Either way, he feels much too restless to stand around any longer, so hastening a quick goodbye to the lovesick couple, Grantaire carries on his path around the lake, only stopping once his feet are tired and there's nothing left to do except walk back to the apartment.

 

* * *

 

 

On his way back, Grantaire stops by at a newsagents to buy some chocolate for Joly. With his pollen allergy, Grantaire doesn't want to risk buying flowers, but he needs _something_  to offer as an apology.

(No doubt Joly spent most of the day worrying about Grantaire's mental and physical wellbeing, so he supposes he should also apologise for that. Hopefully Bossuet will be home by the time Grantaire gets back too- he'd hate to think of Joly on his own all that time.)

Grantaire knocks on the door when he gets to their floor- a rare occurrence, usually he'd just walk in- but he feels like the occasion requires a different etiquette. It's not often he fights with one of his roommates- if what he and Joly had earlier could even be described as a fight. Grantaire's not sure that it can.

Bossuet answers, looking surprised to see Grantaire on the other side. "Hey, R, we missed you man, come on in."

Grantaire does, grateful beyond words that Bossuet doesn't make a big deal out of it.

"Joly!" Bossuet calls once they're both inside. "R's home!"

Grantaire hears a soft murmur come from the bedroom before Joly comes rushing out, walking towards Grantaire as fast as his leg will allow.

Joly throws his arms around Grantaire's waist once he's close enough, and Grantaire lets himself to be hugged.

"I brought you chocolate." he says uncertainly as they part.

Joly laughs. "You didn't need to get me anything, you idiot."

"Yeah, well, I felt better about it once I did, so-" he roots around in his coat pocket for the chocolate, "here. Fair trade and all, see?"

"Thank you so much R, oh my god." Joly says, taking the chocolate from Grantaire and unwrapping it hastily. "I love you so much."

"Hey, where's my chocolate?" Bossuet frowns, playfully grabbing at Grantaire.

"I'm sure Joly will share." Grantaire says, smiling.

"Nope." Joly says through a mouthful of chocolate. Bossuet pouts. "So where did you go, R?" Joly asks, breaking off half of the chocolate and handing it to Bossuet.

"Oh, y'know. I walked down the river, around the park, then I went to the library to finish some stuff for design." he shrugs, trying to make it seem like it was something he'd had planned. "I ran into Jehan and Montparnasse at the park." he adds.

Joly and Bossuet exchange a glance. "Not a fan?" Grantaire guesses.

Bossuet shrugs. "Not really anything," he says carefully. "Jehan obviously knows him better than we do and I trust their judgement, so..."

Joly nods thoughtfully. "I mean, I'll admit, I was a little surprised when they first told us but hey, as long as they're happy."

"Montparnasse seems okay." Grantaire says, frowning just a little. It seems unlike any of the ABC to dislike someone purely on the basis that they're from a different club.

"He's not the problem." Bossuet says. "It's the people he hangs around with."

"Although, to be fair, we've only ever seen them when we're in competition against them- they could be lovely in a different situation."

"They cheated." Bossuet says, on the verge of bitterness.

"Allegedly."

"Allegedly my ass."

"Even if they did, it was two years ago. They could've changed."

"Yeah..." Bossuet trails off, breaking the hints of tension with an easy smile. "Oh well, I'm sure we'll win this year."

"That's the spirit." mutters Grantaire, heading into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea.

Joly and Bossuet appear to be having a conversation behind Grantaire's back, which he gracefully pretends not to notice, until he hears Joly cough. Turning, Grantaire raises his eyebrows in the perfect imitation of someone who doesn't know they were just being discussed from a few feet away.

"Are you going to karate tomorrow?" Joly asks.

"I... was planning on going, yes."

Joly smiles widely. "That's great!" he says genuinely. Then his smile drops slightly. "It's just- we can't make it, and we didn't know about you going alone- we could ring Jehan, if you want? I'm sure they'd be happy to go along with you."

Grantaire appreciates the thought, he really does, but Joly really doesn't need to treat him like he's a toddler liable to get lost on the twenty minute walk from here to the Musain.

"I think I'll be fine." he says offhandedly.

Joly looks uncertain, but thankfully Bossuet steps in. "We have orders." he says solemnly.

"Orders?" repeats Grantaire.

"Orders. From our dear Musichetta in Brazil."

"Do I want to be hearing this?" Grantaire jokes, wiggling his eyebrows in the way that never fails to make Joly snort.

"Get your mind out of the gutter Grantaire." Bossuet says, shaking his head and tutting. Grantaire gives him the finger.

"She's ordered us to go on a date." Joly explains once he's recovered from his laughter. "She says she has important news, and since she can't be there to tell us, we're to go to a fancy restaurant and when we get back, she's going to reveal all."

Grantaire feels his grin widening. "What do you think it is?"

Joly and Bossuet glance at each other. It's obvious they're both trying to hide their giddiness. "Well, we don't want to get our hopes up, but..." Joly trails off, his eyes not leaving Bossuet's.

"We really hope she might be coming to visit again soon." Bossuet finishes happily.

"That's great guys," Grantaire says, shocked at the amount of sincerity that comes out of his own voice. "I really hope she does."

"We do too." says Joly. Bossuet leans down to catch Joly's lips in a kiss; Joly stands on tiptoe to make the distance easier to breach.

Grantaire finds this a good enough reason to make himself scarce, excusing himself with a chuckle and a crude comment.

Once he's alone in his room, Grantaire takes out Gros' letter and examines it for what feels like the thousandth time. He reads it over and over, until his brain is too tired to do anything other than sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

The hours pass quicker than Grantaire had anticipated- it feels like he barely manages two hours sleep before Wednesday announces itself sharply and with no consideration for Grantaire's fucked up sleep schedule.

He spends most of the day on his laptop, aimlessly editing a panel he's supposed to have finished tomorrow. The colours aren't looking right and Grantaire can't tell, but there's just something _off_  about the line structure. At the end of a few hours, it's still not looking any better, so Grantaire abandons his graphics tablet and opens his laptop instead. The rest of the day is spent binge watching Brooklyn 99.

Then, six o'clock comes and Grantaire once again is faced with the prospect of karate. Since Joly and Bossuet aren't going to be there, Grantaire makes the walk to the Musain alone. After an energetic goodbye (neither Joly nor Bossuet could wait to leave the apartment, and it'd showed) Grantaire spent another few minutes getting changed before heading out.

When Grantaire walks in the only people there are Enjolras and Valjean, who appear to be having a rather serious conversation against the back wall, heads bent together and serious expressions on.

Feeling it would be rude to interrupt (he is here early after all) he goes to a corner and begins to warm up since both Joly and Enjolras got on his back last time for not stretching properly. (And boy, does Grantaire's heart still beat hard at the memory of _that_  interaction- the harsh lines of Enjolras' face as he'd claimed stretching was too important to forgo, despite the fact that Grantaire _had_  stretched last time. Or, at least, he'd copied whatever Jehan had been doing, which basically amounts to the same.) There may be a tiny part of Grantaire that is hoping Enjolras will see him and be proven wrong.

Pretending to focus on doing lunges, Grantaire thinks he's being subtle with the glances he casts over to Enjolras and Valjean every so often. It shouldn't be long before others start arriving- Grantaire feels a tad lost here, unable to hear anything but the faint mutter of voices. When he looks up the next time he catches Enjolras eye and freezes. Enjolras nods at him in acknowledgement and then goes back to his conversation.

It's a few minutes later (and still, no one else has arrived yet) when Grantaire hears a clear, "Alright, I'll ask." from Enjolras as he turns away from Valjean, nodding.

"Enjolras," calls out Valjean at Enjolras' retreating figure which turns upon hearing his name. "Try not to worry too much, alright? I know it sounds bad but it's nothing we can't fix." Enjolras nods once more and Valjean smiles, if a little strained.

Grantaire pretends he wasn't listening in as Enjolras walks over to him. His mind is spinning- whatever Valjean said was enough to distress Enjolras, Grantaire can see the way he runs his hands through his hair and is worrying his bottom lip between his teeth (however else he may react to the image is irrelevant and he pushes it firmly to the back of his mind.)

Enjolras doesn't say anything as he takes a place next to Grantaire and begins stretching alongside him, so it's up to Grantaire to initiate conversation. Were it anyone else, Grantaire would have no problem thinking up a topic to talk about, but this is Enjolras, and Grantaire always seems to have a little more difficulty where Enjolras is concerned. He doesn't even know if Enjolras would want to talk- he seems to have a lot on his mind at the minute, and Grantaire is tempted to bite his tongue and keep quiet.

Tempted, but not convinced.

"So," he begins casually, "What was all that about?"

Enjolras shoots Grantaire a look, his brows furrowed. Grantaire keeps the inside of his cheek bitten as he waits for Enjolras to bite out that it's none of his business, that Grantaire shouldn't have been prying where he doesn't belong. After a few painful, evaluating seconds, however, Enjolras only sighs. "Some trouble with the club." he says, trying to pull it off with a shrug.

Grantaire is silent for a second, but only a second. "Trouble?"

"It's nothing to worry about." Enjolras says automatically, parroting Valjean. "Just an issue with the funding. It's easily solved."

Grantaire says nothing to that, feeling that any more questions on the matter would be intrusive. Instead he directs the conversation to a more even topic. "So, where is everyone? Shouldn't they all like, be here, by now?" Maybe he's not the most enthusiastic member of the club but he's pretty certain that it starts at six. Which was fifteen minutes ago.

Enjolras blinks, and Grantaire gets the odd feeling that he's missed something. "Joly and Bossuet didn't tell you? There's no meeting tonight."

Grantaire isn't really sure what his expression is doing right now, but he must looked shocked because Enjolras frowns. "It was on the group chat."

"I'm not in the group chat." Grantaire says. He doesn't mean it to sound accusing but Enjolras looks guilty all the same.

"I'll add you tonight." he says, stupidly sincere, and Grantaire feels his lips twitch upwards despite his growing confusion.

"Wait, so if there's no meeting tonight then why are _you_  here?" Grantaire asks.

"I help run the kids session. Feuilly couldn't make it tonight so it was just me and Valjean and he said he needed to speak to me afterwards."

"And you're not leaving now because..?" Grantaire isn't trying to be hostile but it looks like he achieved it, if the frown on Enjolras' face is any indicator.

"I sometimes stay to practice afterwards." Enjolras explains. Then he looks directly at Grantaire. "And I figured since you were here we could practice together."

Grantaire tries not to read too much into that- it's not unlikely that Enjolras was just pleased for some company and would have been happy to practice with anyone, but still- something inside him glows at the thought that Enjolras wants to practice with him. Just with him, and not because Valjean asked him to.

"Unless you'd rather go home now that you know there's not an actual meeting on." Enjolras asks, waving a hand at Grantaire's raised eyebrow- does Enjolras really have such little faith in him? Besides, he's here now, there'd be little point in leaving without having at least gotten something done. Enjolras obviously interprets Grantaire's silence as hesitancy because he says, "Don't stay on my account. I wouldn't mind if you left."

Ouch.

Whether Enjolras intended that to hurt or not Grantaire isn't sure, but it certainly feels like a punch to the gut when Grantaire reflects on how, yeah, Enjolras probably would prefer him gone- and he'd probably get a lot more done, too, without having to walk Grantaire through the beginners _katas_ and supervise him the whole time.

Then again, there's no reason why he has to leave to stay out of Enjolras' way, surely?

"I'll get in a little bit of practice while I'm here," Grantaire starts. "But you don't have to monitor me or help me or anything, I can stay out of your way."

"I don't mind, you know." Enjolras says then, frowning still, and it hurts because he's so fucking sincere that Grantaire almost belives him. They both know it'll be easier if Grantaire does his own thing whilst Enjolras practices all the advanced moves.

"Nah, don't worry about it." Grantaire says but Enjolras still looks unconvinced, so Grantaire sighs. "I'll call you if I need help, okay?"

Enjolras still looks unsatisfied but nods before turning away from Grantaire, a clear indicator that their conversation is over. It'd be too awkward to stay next to him now, so Grantaire spares a glance at Enjolras' bent over figure, trying to reach his toes, before he walks over to a different corner.

Practicing karate on his own is surprisingly boring, Grantaire soon finds. With no Bossuet to joke with or Jehan to hold conversation with, the art of kicking and punching for minutes on end becomes amazingly dull and repetitive. He's wondering if he can back out and go home after all, but then he catches sight of Enjolras at the other side of the room, performing some complicated technique that involves raising his hands above his head and undergoing a series of very fast and very complicated movements to end up with them in the opposite position when he brings them down.

Enjolras makes it look so effortless, and Grantaire watches on, transfixed. Enjolras proceeds to punch twice in quick succession, stepping forwards before spinning on his heel and drawing his arms across his body in a 180 degree turn, ending with one arm outstretched in front of him and the other raised above his head. He looks glorious, every movement precise and sharp, moving with such a passion that Grantaire can't help but be drawn to.

Stepping up sharply so his feet are together and his arms are crossed against his chest, Enjolras is now facing Grantaire, who doesn't move his gaze fast enough to go unseen by Enjolras. Enjolras' eyes widen slightly and his next move stops midway, arms falling at his sides jerkily. "Everything alright?" Enjolras asks, raising a perfect eyebrow.

Grantaire finds himself nodding as soon as the words have passed Enjolras' lips. "Peachy." he replies, with only a hint of sarcasm. "You, uh, you're really good at that." Oh great, okay, now he's blushing.

Enjolras smiles, very slight though it may be. "Thanks." He pauses, looking unsure. "Do you need help?"

Grantaire's smile drops. "No, no, I'm fine just got... Distracted. I promise, you can get back to what you were doing now." he says, turning away.

"I was almost finished anyway." Enjolras says, refusing to drop eye contact. "I could help you with _pinan nidan._ "

Grantaire bites the inside of his cheek more, considering. Enjolras is the type of person who gets off on helping others so it is possible that he wouldn't be completely averse to just _showing_  Grantaire how to do the moves at least. (There's also the fact that Grantaire finds it incredibly hard to say no to Enjolras, and if he keeps asking there's no way he's going to be able to keep resisting help from him.)

"Okay, but you should finish your _kata_ first." Grantaire says, a desperate last ditch effort to get rid of some of the guilt he feels.

Enjolras shakes his head. "I can't start mid-way, I'd have to go from the beginning."

"Then do," Grantaire shrugs, "I'll wait."

Enjolras looks unsure, but he nods and returns back to starting position. Grantaire briefly wonders if it's okay to watch Enjolras- after all , he knows he wouldn't feel comfortable if someone were to watch him, but then again, Enjolras is _used_  to people watching him so it's no big deal, right?

As if to ease his mind, Enjolras spares him a quick flash of a smile before he begins, turning sharply left and then right with a punch to either side. He draws his arms up once he's facing forward again and this is the part Grantaire caught him doing before- the tricky hand movement and complicated turn sequence. Grantaire watches in awe as Enjolras finishes the _kata_ with a flourish, performing a series of jumps and turns that leave Grantaire almost completely baffled.

Enjolras takes a moment to catch his breath and then turns towards Grantaire, a question in his eyes. Grantaire finds he can only nod in response, torn between complimenting Enjolras or ignoring him completely. Enjolras makes his way towards Grantaire, and from a closer view it's easier to see the sweat that has appeared in beads on his forehead and the distinctly dishevelled appearance of his hair. It's a look that suits him, Grantaire thinks weakly.

"Ready?" Enjolras asks, and Grantaire nods again, because that seems to be the only response his traitorous body will allow today.

"Right okay, so you start in _hachiji dachi_ \- that's basically just a ready position- and from there you turn left and raise your arm above your head but keep your body centre. Heel up." Enjolras instructs as Grantaire struggles to follow. He focuses more on copying Enjolras' position than actually listening to what he's saying; Grantaire's only been coming a few weeks, he's not so far advanced that the Japanese terminology means anything to him yet.

They go on like this for a few more minutes, until Enjolras has successfully walked him through the _kata_. Enjolras is a better teacher than Grantaire expected from their first session together- but then again, he does assist with the kid's class every week so maybe Grantaire should really stop underestimating him.

"Do you think you've got it?" Enjolras asks after their second run through.

"I think I could do it, yeah." Grantaire says, because for once he honestly does. "But I doubt I'll remember it next week."

Enjolras makes a noise that somehow sounds both pleased and disapproving, "That's why you should practice."

Grantaire rolls his eyes in response, but doesn't bite back because, contrary to popular belief, he actually enjoys getting along with Enjolras. A little bit too much, perhaps.

"Can I see it without me guiding you?" Enjolras asks, and yeah, that's what Grantaire was afraid of.

"Fine," he huffs. "But only because I watched you earlier. Fair's fair and all that."

He's pretty sure he remembers all of the moves in the _kata_. There are a terrifying few seconds after the third block where he forgets which leg he's supposed to turn on but a quick glance at Enjolras shows him waving his left hand discreetly and Grantaire takes the hint well enough. He finishes in what he hopes is the correct stance and chances a look behind him at Enjolras, who looks immensely satisfied. "Good." he says, nodding. "I think we can call that a night, don't you?"

Grantaire nods.

 

* * *

 

 

When he gets home, Joly and Bossuet have not yet returned from their date, so he amuses himself instead by logging on to skype to see if Musichetta is online. She isn't; the little icon by her name set to red, so Grantaire closes the app with a resigned sigh.

He does have a notification though- from Facebook messenger. Intrigued- because Grantaire barely uses the messenger app on his phone- he taps the small blue speech bubble and understanding hits him immediately.

At the top of his inbox is an invite to _Les Amis de l'ABC Karate Group Chat_  which, in Grantaire's opinion, is a very, very pretentious name for a group chat. Most of his old groups have obscure inside jokes as their titles (once he was even part of a group that had pasted the entirety of the bee movie script as their chat title. Needless to say, Grantaire left that group not long after.)

The chat is interesting, to say the least. He does indeed see Enjolras' message from earlier- sent at 4:33pm- that there will be no karate tonight, which is probably why Joly and Bossuet didn't think to tell him.

Scrolling through the old messages, Grantaire learns three things. One, that Courfeyrac and Jehan both use an insane amount of emojis when texting anything; two, that Grantaire is barely friends with any of the ABC members on Facebook; and three, this might just be the most tight-knit group of friends he's ever come across.

Once again, the infectious doubt seems to spread into Grantaire's chest- what business has he trying to worm his way into the ABC's inner circle? But that doubt is just as quickly pushed aside when he gets another message alert- this time from Enjolras.

Instead of opening the message straight away, Grantaire clicks on the link that takes him directly to Enjolras' profile. He feels almost guilty for a second before reminding himself that it is a public profile, and that Enjolras won't have anything displayed there that he wouldn't want people to see. So, really, it's fine and Grantaire is doing nothing wrong whatsoever.

That doesn't stop his heart from beating wildly as he goes on to 'photos'. Initially, Grantaire is surprised by how many photos of Enjolras there are- all fairly recent, and from what Grantaire can see there are no selfies present (a shame, he thinks to himself almost sadly.) Enjolras at protests, Enjolras at rallies, Enjolras hanging out with his friends or at university.

One particular album catches Grantaire's eye called 'London Pride 2016'- on the cover photo Enjolras is smiling widely, sat upon Bahorel's shoulders and clutching a blue, pink, and white flag in one fist, the other waving directly at the camera. Inside the album are more photos, supposedly from the same event- in it Grantaire finds the photo Enjolras has used as his profile picture: one of him grinning brightly with Combeferre and Courfeyrac on either side. Others are there, including one of Enjolras and Jehan apparently sharing a rainbow coloured icecream, Feuilly and Bahorel in some kind of arm-wrestling competition, and a few more group photos that seem to include all of the ABC. There's something almost tender about the photos, and Grantaire closes the window abruptly, feeling like a nosy onlooker into this particular window of Enjolras' life.

Without cause to delay it any longer, Grantaire opens the message.

 **Enjolras [8:40pm] :** Hi Grantaire, I've added you to to group chat- apologies for not thinking to do it sooner. Hope you got home alright. E

Grantaire doesn't know how he should reply, except that he has too. Enjolras will be able to see that he's read the message, it will look rude if Grantaire ignores it.

 **You [8:53pm] :** Hi, thanks for adding me and dw about it. got home fine my neighbourhood isn't /that/ sketchy lol

Grantaire cringes as soon as the message is sent. Not even ten seconds have passed before there's a reply.

 **Enjolras [8:53pm] :** Glad to hear it :)

Grantaire stares at the smiley face next to Enjolras' name for a good five minutes before he decides that, no, enough is enough and he needs to go to bed.

Joly and Bossuet _still_  aren't home so it appears Grantaire will just have to wait until the morning to see what the surprise was- wherever they are he can only trust that they're having fun. He _would_  stay up but nothing, not even the transatlantic love of the three people closest to him, can make up for the fact that he only got two hours of sleep last night.

Grantaire falls asleep at nine o'clock and his dreams are full of blonde hair and red paint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so let's see:
> 
> Kata is a type of sequence learnt in karate that showcases particular moves in an organised way. There are around 15 in wado ryu and the kata Enjolras was practicing is called pinan godan (aka kata #5) you can see it being done [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KLpDLvJzRAs)
> 
> Hachiji dachi is, as Enjolras said, basically just a 'ready stance' aka what you'd do at the start of a kata/combination/sequence to show you're ready to begin. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and, as always, please leave a comment if you enjoyed it! Kudos and comments are what keep me writing, so please, if you have anything at all you'd like to say, I'd love to hear !!! Comments are like gold in the fanfic world <3
> 
> (Also, yes, my current geography class has the entire script of the bee movie as our group chat name. No, I'm not sorry)
> 
> Find me on tumblr: [tattoograntaire](http://www.tattoograntaire.tumblr.com)


	4. Wrong Place, Wrong Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hello again." Enjolras says once he's noticed Grantaire's presence.
> 
> "Fancy seeing you here." Grantaire quips back. "Mind if I intrude on your little sanctuary?"
> 
> Enjolras hums in thought, considering. "Actually, I was wondering- do you want to go grab coffee?"
> 
> ***
> 
> In which Enjolras and Grantaire get coffee, Grantaire makes some very questionable decisions, and a surprise visitor arrives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since the last update and for that I apologise, I'm up to my knees in schoolwork in preparation for next year, so it's a bit of a busy time, I'm afraid!
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Grantaire digs himself deeper into a hole, as per usual, and also develops a habit for being in places he probably shouldn't. (Plot logistics, amirite?) Also- the denial is strong in this one ;)
> 
> (Also, there's more discussion of Grantaire's alcoholism in this one and also a party-like setting where alcohol is present, just a heads up!)

Unfortunately for Grantaire, there seems to be some sort of Divine Intervention at work to ensure that he never gets more than two hours rest.

"Do you think he's awake?" Asks a voice from above him.

"Of course he is, he's just pretending." Comes another.

Grantaire is tempted to snap back something scathing about being woken up, when a third voice joins the thrall.

"Oh yes, he's definitely pretending."

All thoughts of sarcasm thrown out the window, Grantaire bolts upright. "'Chetta?" he asks, unbelieving.

And sure enough, Musichetta waves to him from where she's standing at the foot of his bed, Joly and Bossuet stood next to her, both of them beaming.

"Hello, Grantaire." she says, and Grantaire almost suffers a fatal injury from getting caught up in the duvet whilst struggling to get out of bed. Once successfully unentangled, Grantaire throws his arms around Musichetta, who laughs and hugs him back fiercely. "I missed you," she mumbles into his ear. "Congratulations on seven months."

Grantaire breaks away slightly awkwardly. He knows what she's referencing of course, but it'd probably be less awkward for them all if he feigned ignorance.

"So how come you're here?" Grantaire asks instead, a tactful change of subject.

Musichetta smiles. "It turns out I had more savings than I anticipated. I was going to come over in the summer and just stay for longer, but my family had issues with me wanting to stay here over christmas, so I moved my schedule ahead a bit and here I am."

Grantaire blinks- it's only April, which leaves him wondering just how much Musichetta had managed to scrounge up.

"That's amazing, really, I'm so glad you're here." Grantaire says, still attempting to get over the sudden shock her presence has brought.

"Isn't it great?" exclaims Joly, who has apparently been struggling not to say anything. Musichetta shoots him a look of such fondness that it actually makes Grantaire's heart ache.

"It's the best." says Bossuet, walking over to Musichetta and placing a kiss on her cheek.

Grantaire laughs. "I'm happy for you guys. Hell knows you deserve it."

"We definitely weren't expecting it." says Bossuet.

Joly nods emphatically. "We were at the restaurant and it turns out we already had a reservation under the name Musichetta so we were like 'alright, she called ahead, how thoughtful' and then the waiter led us to our table and- there she was!"

"You should have seen their faces!" Musichetta snorts.

As much as Grantaire would have liked to be there to see Joly and Bossuet's faces as Musichetta surprised them with her presence, he'd never deny them their moment of private reunion.

"I thought about calling ahead actually. I almost caved in and called you, R, just to make sure they were coming." Musichetta admits, laughing at the way Joly and Bossuet shake their heads imperceptibly. "I thought it might've been rude to just show up unannounced, especially since it appears I'll have to sleep on your couch again."

"Yeah, the couch. Because that was definitely where you slept last time." Grantaire says, raising his eyebrows.

Musichetta laughs loudly, as Joly and Bossuet grin. It's sickening.

"I didn't want to presume!" Musichetta protests, which only sends the three of them further into laughter.

"Presume away, Musichetta dear." Bossuet says with a wink.

"Alright, alright, let's keep this family friendly." Grantaire interrupts, which sets off another round of giggles.

Eventually the three of them regain their composure enough to cajole Grantaire into watching a film with them. Grantaire is tired as fuck, but he eventually acquiesces, after the fiftieth reassurance that he is not intruding on their private time.

They end up watching The Incredibles on Bossuet's laptop- the space that the sofa allows is hardly big enough for the four of them, but Grantaire compromises by seating himself on the armrest and letting the three lovers share the sofa space equally.

It's a good system.

That is- until Joly grabs Grantaire by the leg and pulls him down into the pile of bodies. He lands on top of Bossuet, who, to his credit, does nothing more than sling an arm around Grantaire's shoulders and fully invest him into their cuddle-pile. Grantaire was right- the sofa definitely is not big enough for the four of them and a laptop- but despite the pain that Joly's elbow in his rib is causing him, Grantaire finds himself feeling happier than he has in a long time.

 

* * *

 

The next few days pass by in a blur; Grantaire feels so caught up in everything that he barely has time to think, much less come to any decision about Gros' offer.

The meeting is set for Friday, and Grantaire is all too conscious of Joly's eyes on his back as he leaves the apartment for his lectures that day.

They haven't discussed it anymore since the letter arrived on Tuesday, too swept up in the excitement of Musichetta's arrival- but Grantaire has no doubt that the issue will have been weighing as heavily on Joly's mind- if not more- as it has on Grantaire's.

Grantaire fails to concentrate all the way through his first lecture. By the time it's over he still hasn't come to a decision on whether he's going to attend the meeting or not. Which is becoming increasingly problematic, seeing as he has maybe twenty minutes to make up his mind.

The letter clutched tight in his fist, it only takes walking to the old man's office to convince Grantaire that this is a bad idea. Paintings line the walls of the corridor- his own amongst them. The sight makes Grantaire queasy, although he'd be hard-pressed to say exactly why.

Stood in front of the door, Grantaire pauses. This isn't what he wants to do. This isn't where he wants to _be_. His mind is screaming a mantra of _no, no, no, no, no_ and it's enough for Grantaire to feel his resolve crumble. He can just about make out the top of Gros' head from the small square of glass in the door, and he realises:

He isn't ready.

Grantaire may be a lot of things but he is definitely _not_  ready to walk through that door and confront Gros.

Not now, and probably not ever.

Feeling the defeat as if it were a real, tangible thing in the air, Grantaire goes home.

"How'd it go?" Joly launches on him as soon as he steps foot inside the apartment. There's a heavenly smell coming from inside the kitchen, where Grantaire assumes Musichetta and Bossuet to be.

Grantaire doesn't think he'll ever have a reason for what he does next. "It went great." he tells Joly, trying to replicate a happiness he doesn't feel.

Joly beams. "Really?"

"Yeah, really." Grantaire smiles.

"That's great, R! So you'll be able to graduate this year after all?"

Grantaire nods tightly and allows Joly to hug him. That's not what it means, not at all, but Grantaire doesn't tell Joly that.

"Guys!" Joly calls, "Get over here!"

Grantaire feels a twisting in his gut as Musichetta and Bossuet emerge from the kitchen, wearing a 'kiss the cook' apron and covered in flour, respectively.

"It went well?" Bossuet asks hopefully. Grantaire gives another tight-lipped smile in response. Bossuet whoops, grabbing Musichetta's hands and spinning her in a circle. "That's great news, R!"

"Yeah." Agrees Grantaire weakly.

Musichetta, however, looks a tad more skeptical. "So what did he say? Are you switching back to his course?"

"I, uh. Well, it's more like I'm, y'know, doing half and half? So the graphic design part, which was my minor, and the painting, which was my major, can, uh, be more evenly split so I can still get the right amount of credits to graduate."

Musichetta nods, considering. "So up until now you've only been doing the minor part of your course?"

Grantaire winces, because in effect, that's exactly what he's been doing. Still _is_ doing. "Yeah, that's basically- yes."

"And now you're doing the full thing?"

Grantaire nods.

"When is graduation?" Joly asks suddenly. "It's in July, right? Musichetta could still be here by then."

"I should be, hopefully." Musichetta agrees. "Depending on whether I can get a job here or not, but I don't have to be back until November, if things go to plan."

"Let's hope they go to plan." Joly says smiling. "Then you can be here for Grantaire's graduation!"

Musichetta smiles. "Let's hope so." she says.

Grantaire forces himself to laugh- if he has to stay here much longer they'll definitely be able to tell something's up. "Well, I hope you will be able to, Musichetta, but in order to have a graduation I actually have to graduate so I'd better get started on the workload. I have a lot of catching up to do, you see."

He enters his room to shouts of encouragement from the three of them, and he's never felt like a worse friend in his life.

 

* * *

 

 

Grantaire somehow keeps up the charade over the next few days- he spends another doubtful flash outside Gros' door on the Monday following the meeting he was supposed to attend, consumed by the weekend's guilt, but ultimately chickens out.

Joly, Bossuet, and Musichetta keep flashing him encouraging little smiles whenever he says he needs to go and catch up on schoolwork as an excuse to get away for a little while, and it only makes him feel worse.

He loves having Musichetta over, he really does- and he loves the fact that it makes Joly and Bossuet so happy, too. But he can't help occasionally feeling like an intruder- they can't actually want to spend that much time with him when they have each other, surely?

It's a lot to adjust to, is all.

It's Tuesday when Bossuet knocks on his door, poking his head round before Grantaire can scramble together the necessities that make it look believable that he was actually studying.

Bossuet doesn't seem to notice, he just waves at Grantaire and steps inside, closing the door behind him. "You checked the group chat in a while?" he says.

Grantaire blinks. "No? Should I have?"

Bossuet shrugs. "Courfeyrac's trying to organise a get-together after karate tomorrow. To celebrate Musichetta coming over, y'know- and Joly suggested we could weave it together with your success with Gros, if you want that."

Grantaire most definitely does _not_  want that. "No, no, it's fine. I don't really want everyone focused on me, this should be about Musichetta." he wonders if that will appease Bossuet, or if he'll push the point further.

Luckily for Grantaire, Bossuet just shrugs. "Whatever you want, man. But, uh, listen- that's not the only thing you should be aware of. There's probably going to be alcohol there if it's at Courf's, and we weren't sure how comfortable you'd be with that. Courfeyrac's a great guy so he'll understand completely if you'd rather not-"

"I'll be fine." Grantaire says, even though his heart is racing at the mere mention of drinking. "Seriously," he continues, because Bossuet looks as though he's going to need some convincing. "You don't have to worry about me, I'll be fine."

Really, the last thing he needs is everyone else in the ABC knowing his fucked up history.

"You're sure?" Bossuet asks, and Grantaire rolls his eyes, smiling to soften it.

"I'm sure."

Bossuet smiles at him. "Okay then, I'll leave you to your-" and now he does take a look around the room, eyes narrowing suspiciously when he sees the lack of books, or pens, or anything even remotely academic around Grantaire- "...Work."

"Study break." Grantaire explains.

"Ah." says Bossuet, looking thoroughly unconvinced. "Cool. Well, there's pizza ready for you when you're done!"

Grantaire wastes no time in burying his face into his pillow as soon as Bossuet closes the door again.

The karate group chat has been going crazy over the last few days since Musichetta's arrival- Grantaire wasn't aware anyone at the club would have been acquainted with her, but it appears she'd been an honorary member last summer, when Joly and Bossuet had convinced her to go along with them.

(And yes, maybe Grantaire is slightly jealous that even _Musichetta_ had met the rest of Les Amis before he did, but he has absolutely no one to blame for that apart from himself. Which he does, often and with frequency.)

 **Courf [8:53pm] :** can everyone make it to mine and marius' place after karate tomorrow ? celebrations are in order

 **Brohorel:** fuck yes

 **Ponine:** Probably.

 **Sweetsette:** Definitely!!!

 **ComBEEferre:** Me and Enj will be there! :)

 **Jehan:** !!!!!!!!!!!! :-)

 **Fweeeeeeeeee:** I can turn up after my shift later on?

 **Chetta:** awwwwwww you guys  <3

Grantaire blinks- he didn't even know Musichetta was in the group chat.

 **You [10:14pm] :** i'll b there 

 **Courf:** !!!!!!!!!! great ok that's everyone

 **Jolllllllllllly:** excuse u me and bossuet have not rsvp'd yet

 **Courf:** joly i literally organised this with u stfu

 **Jolllllllllllly:** ;))

 

* * *

 

 

Grantaire's not sure how he ended up in the supply cupboard at the back of the karate hall, but there he is.

"Grantaire, will you fetch me the sparring pads?" Valjean had asked him halfway through the session. "Through the door, over there."

Getting in the storage room wasn't the hard part- locating the sparring pads Valjean had asked for and getting out? That's a different story.

Grantaire realises his mistake as soon as the door closes on him and he's stuck in darkness. "Ah shit," he mumbles to himself, tugging on the handle. As feared, the door doesn't budge and Grantaire curses whatever entity has been controlling his luck recently. He wonders distantly if he's swapped places with Bossuet.

He debates banging on the door until someone notices his absence and decides to investigate, but then he hears someone speaking.

"Feuilly, could I ask you a favour?" That's Enjolras' voice, Grantaire's sure of it. He sounds slightly hesitant and Grantaire immediately feels like this is a conversation for Feuilly's ears only.

Grantaire doesn't mean to eavesdrop. He really, really doesn't.

Their conversation is muffled, but he can't help but to hear certain snippets of speech, especially as they get closer to the cupboard.

"I know it's a lot to ask," Enjolras is saying and Grantaire can almost imagine the pained look on his face. He knows Enjolras well enough to know that he hates asking for favours, least of all from Feuilly, who works more in a day than Grantaire has done in his whole life.

"I'm really sorry Enj, I just don't have the time." Feuilly sounds genuinely apologetic to Grantaire's ears, unbelievably earnest in his refusal. "I would if I could, in a heartbeat."

"I know." says Enjolras, his voice quieter. "I'm sorry for asking I just... It's no secret that I'm bad at design work and no one's going to read flyers that look like they were made by a five year old."

Grantaire blinks. He didn't even know Enjolras had the ability to be self-deprecating.

Feuilly laughs shortly, and there's the sound of fabric rustling- if Grantaire had to guess he'd say they were hugging right about now.

"Don't worry about it, I'll come up with something." Enjolras says after a lengthy pause. "It'll be fine."

"You know, I heard Bossuet mention that Grantaire does art the other day?" Feuilly suggests and Grantaire's heart stops.

There's a significant pause.

"Grantaire?" That's Enjolras' voice- full of doubt. Grantaire feels indignant although he can't say why- it's not like he's jumping at the chance to design leaflets or whatever the hell else Enjolras wants, but Enjolras' apparent unwillingness to even consider Grantaire as an option? That stings.

"Yeah, apparently he's pretty good." Feuilly continues, oblivious to the hiding Grantaire's inner crisis.

Enjolras makes a considering sound. Grantaire tries not to wince- if _Feuilly_  can't convince Enjolras that Grantaire is at least good for something then it's pretty much hopeless. "I'll think about it." Enjolras says eventually.

When he finally emerges from the cupboard, having managed to wrench the handle open, sparring pads in hand, Grantaire does his best to look as inconspicuous as possible, and not like someone who just spent the last fifteen minutes locked in a cupboard. It's easier said than done, really.

Grantaire is so absorbed in trying to look normal he doesn't even notice when he bumps into Éponine, who's headed the other way.

"Shit, sorry." he says automatically. And then- "Wait, are you okay?"

Éponine looks up sharply, wiping her eyes almost viciously. "Fine." she says somewhat harshly. Grantaire only blinks in response, his brain taking a moment to catch up with him. Éponine sighs and pushes past him, quickly making her way to the exit.

Grantaire looks around to see if anyone else caught that, but everyone appears to be lost in their own activities. He spots Marius and Cosette in the corner, laughing and seemingly having a competition to see who can kick the highest. Looking back to the door where Éponine had disappeared, a lot of things seem to click into place.

_Oh._

Before Grantaire has time to dwell on it, however, he feels a tap at his shoulder. Turning, Grantaire comes face to face with Bahorel and Jehan, who are both grinning at him.

"C'mon," Bahorel says, gesturing over his shoulder. "We have to get you some more practice with sparring before the next group session."

Jehan is bouncing on the balls of their feet excitedly. "I haven't got a chance to fight you yet, R." they say.

Grantaire smiles, and doesn't know whether to feel honoured or terrified. Bahorel laughs at his pained expression and the three of them make their way over to the mats at the far end of the room.

As expected, Grantaire loses. He does get in a couple good punches to Jehan's stomach but for the most part, like Enjolras, Jehan is just too quick for his punches to land.

Wiping the sweat from his brow once he's done, Grantaire looks around the room only to find Enjolras looking directly at him. Enjolras' eyes widen as Grantaire meets his gaze, startled, before his face relaxes into an easy smile and he nods to Grantaire. Grantaire just about manages a small nod of acknowledgement in return, but the gesture feels clumsy, and nothing like the effortless grace Enjolras commands.

Their eyes must have only been locked for a few seconds, but Grantaire feels as though a small lifetime has passed since he first looked up and saw Enjolras staring back at him. He can't understand why his palms are suddenly so sweaty, or why he feels more adrenalin in this moment than he did whilst fighting Jehan.

Whatever the reason, Grantaire pushes it firmly to the back of his mind in order to focus on more pressing issues: namely, the party that Courfeyrac is hosting tonight.

It's only around eight o'clock, but Grantaire can already tell it's going to be a very long night.

 

* * *

 

It only takes twenty minutes for Grantaire to realise coming here was a mistake. Courfeyrac and Marius' apartment is definitely big- with the amount of people currently crowded into the main room, Grantaire supposes there's a reason they chose to host the get together here.

Fortunately for Grantaire, it also means there's a lot of rooms for him to sneak away into. Courfeyrac had given everyone the go ahead earlier on to wander as they wish, as long as there were no 'unspeakable things' happening.

Grantaire slips away as soon as it can be considered discreet, after Courfeyrac has unveiled the first bottle of vodka. He finds himself in the kitchen, manages to pour himself a glass of water with shaking hands, before devising a plan of action.

There must be some way he can leave without arousing too much concern from Joly or Bossuet. It's already making him feel guilty enough that his friends are limiting themselves on how much they're drinking for his sake- really, it'd be in their best interests if he left.

He could slip out- only then he knows Joly would worry, knows Bossuet would work himself up about finding him, and the pair of them would be too focused on him to actually enjoy themselves. And, well, that's the opposite of what Grantaire wants.

Claiming he has a headache or stomach bug could work- but it would also cause the whole worrying thing too, which- no.

Grantaire is assessing the various pros and cons of saying he has a piece due soon, when he feels a tap on his shoulder.

Turning, Grantaire finds himself face to face with Enjolras, who is frowning imperceptibly. Irrationally, Grantaire's heart rate picks up, which is stupid, so stupid, because there's absolutely no reason that seeing Enjolras should make Grantaire feel like he's going into cardiac arrest.

And yet here they are.

"Hi." Grantaire says after a beat.

"Hello." Enjolras replies. He nods to the water in Grantaire's hand. "Not drinking?" he asks, a hint of something indistinguishable in his voice. Grantaire tries not to bristle.

"Nah," he answers, deliberately vague. "You?"

Enjolras shakes his head, "Me neither."

"Is there a reason or is it just not your thing?" Grantaire asks and then curses himself inwardly. These things are quite often personal- who is Grantaire to go thinking Enjolras would want to confide in someone like him?

Enjolras studies him for a second, narrowing his eyes as if to determine whether Grantaire's joking or not. "Not that it 'not being my thing' wouldn't qualify as a valid reason anyway," Enjolras begins and Grantaire fights so, _so_ hard not to roll his eyes. "Let's just say alcoholism has been a recurring problem in my family for a while."

"And you'd rather not take any chances?" Grantaire guesses.

Enjolras nods, taking a sip of something which Grantaire assumes to be either water or lemonade. "How about you?"

Grantaire's not ashamed of his past, not really. He knew, distantly, that when he asked Enjolras, Enjolras was probably going to redirect the question back at Grantaire.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." Enjolras alters quickly.

Grantaire pauses. "I was." he says eventually. Enjolras makes an inquisitive noise in the back of his throat, inviting Grantaire to expand further. "An alcoholic, that is. Well, am really. I don't think seven months sober gets me free of the label."

If Enjolras is shocked, he doesn't let it show on his face. "Would it be appropriate for me to offer my congratulations?"

Grantaire smiles tightly. "Yeah, no worries. Thanks." he says even though it's hardly anything worth celebrating in his eyes.

Enjolras nods to him before Courfeyrac calls him away into the other room. "See you later, Grantaire." Enjolras says, and turns to leave.

Grantaire awkwardly waves in response, and wonders how on earth he's going to get through the night.

 

* * *

 

 

As it happens, Enjolras does find Grantaire again later on in the night. Or rather, Grantaire finds _him_  this time.

He's looking to escape for a few minutes- most of Les Amis are congregated in the main room, playing some kind of drinking game that involves a lot of noise and laughter. Grantaire had excused himself with a wave of his hand and retreated to the kitchen, where he spots an unmistakeable head of blond hair.

"Hello again." Enjolras says once he's noticed Grantaire's presence.

"Fancy seeing you here." Grantaire quips back. "Mind if I intrude on your little sanctuary?"

Enjolras hums in thought, considering. "Actually, I was wondering- do you want to go grab coffee? Since neither of us are drinking."

It's only been around two hours, but already the atmosphere is starting to wear on Grantaire. 

Grantaire has the funny feeling that Enjolras would be completely fine if he were to say no ( _maybe even relieved_ , the negative part of his mind supplies) but Grantaire has a really bad habit of doing precisely what's worse for him- and in this case that definitely consists of trying to make awkward small talk with someone who has all the charm and charisma of a saint whilst Grantaire himself has none.

"Uh, sure, let me just- let me just go grab my coat."

Enjolras nods his head patiently. "I'll be here."

Grantaire makes an aborted wave before turning on his heel and rushing down the corridor. He has no idea where Courfeyrac took his coat earlier, but it's got to be in one of the spare rooms, right?

The first room Grantaire tries is empty (although there is a picture of Napoleon on the wall, which- okay, that's weird.)

The second room is most certainly _not_ empty.

Grantaire can just about make out the back of Combeferre's head, where slender fingers are entangled in the short curls there. Grantaire startles and makes to move out of the room- too late, apparently, for the person blocked from Grantaire's line of sight by Combeferre's body emits a squeak and bolts upright.

It's Courfeyrac.

Grantaire blinks. _Huh._ He did not know that was a thing.

"Sorry!" he says, once it's clear both of them have seen him. "Sorry, I was, uh, looking for my coat. I didn't know there was anyone in here, I'll just- yeah." he waves to the doorway absentmindedly, meaning to make a retreat when Combeferre's steady voice calls him back.

"Wait."

Grantaire pauses with his hand on the doorknob and turns slowly. Combeferre looks dishevelled, his hair messy and glasses askew- neither of which does anything to negate the Very Serious expression he's wearing. Beside him, Courfeyrac chews on his bottom lip anxiously.

"Uh." Grantaire says, because- what?

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about this, Grantaire." Combeferre says.

"They don't know?" Grantaire asks, at a loss.

It's Courfeyrac who answers this time, dragging a hand through his hair in a way that makes it replicate Combeferre's. "Not yet." he says carefully.

"Not even Enjolras?" Grantaire may not have been in the ABC community long but even he knows that Enjolras, Combeferre, and Courfeyrac are like three points on a triangle.

Combeferre and Courfeyrac exchange a significant look. "Especially not Enjolras." Combeferre says eventually.

"It's not that we don't want to tell him!" Courfeyrac hastens to add. "He's just... got a lot on his plate right now, and- and this is new, and we-"

"We'll tell him in our own time." Combeferre says, covering Courfeyrac's hand with his own. "Once things have settled down a bit for him, and once we have a better idea of how exactly this will affect our friendship dynamics."

Grantaire wants to tell Combeferre that that sounds like bullshit, and that it'd probably be a lot easier to tell Enjolras now rather than hide it from him. But Grantaire hasn't known Enjolras for as long as Combeferre and Courfeyrac have known Enjolras, and so Grantaire shuts up.

"Please, Grantaire." says Combeferre, misinterpreting his silence.

"If you didn't want anyone else to find out, you probably shouldn't be making out in an unlocked room where any one of your friends could walk in- including Enjolras!"

Combeferre nods placatingly, though his face has turned pale. "That's fair." he says quietly.

It takes a long moment but eventually Grantaire sighs. "I won't tell him. But- if he asks, I'm not going to lie, either."

Remaining in a neutral stance is probably his best option here- Grantaire doesn't really know anyone well enough to predict the potential outcomes of what would happen if he were to refuse, so all in all it's probably better to stay out of it. 

Combeferre nods at him. "Thank you, Grantaire."

Courfeyrac still looks stricken, but is noticeably more at ease now that Grantaire isn't going to run off and tell Enjolras his two best friends are snogging behind his back.

"Right well. I'll just be-" Grantaire jerks his thumb in a backwards motion, shrugging his shoulders.

Combeferre carries on nodding, says, "Of course." and Grantaire makes the hastiest exit known to man, letting out a deep exhale once he's on the other side of the door.

He's halfway back to the kitchen when he realises that he still never retrieved his jacket. Enjolras wanders out before he can think of a valid excuse. "There you are." Enjolras says, "I was starting to think you'd gotten lost."

Grantaire laughs. "I know it's a big apartment but it's not _that_  big."

"Where's your jacket?" says Enjolras, frowning slightly.

"Uh. I changed my mind, actually, it's not too cold, I'll be fine." Which is a straight up lie- it may be mid-April, but that doesn't stop the chill from working it's way into Grantaire's bones once it's past eight o' clock.

Enjolras looks skeptical, but he must decide that whatever Grantaire's lying about is not worth the hassle of uncovering, for he just shrugs and gestures towards the door. Grantaire keeps his head down as he slides past Enjolras and works his way through everyone else still currently in the main room.

"Joly! Bossuet!" Grantaire shouts, because he can't leave without telling them- he owes them that, at least.

Joly's head darts up, and he smiles once he catches sight of Grantaire. Bossuet is engaged in some sort of card game with Jehan and Musichetta, so Grantaire leaves them to it and makes his way over to Joly- who, thankfully, still seems mostly sober.

"Alright?" Joly asks once Grantaire's within range, slightly too quietly for it to be anything other than concern.

"Fine." Grantaire replies briskly. "Listen, sorry for bailing on you guys but me and Enjolras are going to get coffee somewhere, since neither of us are drinking."

The briefest flash of surprise flickers across Joly's face, quickly replaced with a bright smile. "Sure! That's great- make sure you get home safe, alright? Text me if there's any trouble?"

"Of course. Give 'Chetta my best, won't you?" Grantaire says, which really means _'tell her I'm sorry and that I'll make it up to her.'_

Joly rolls his eyes. "She'll understand. You know she'll understand."

And Grantaire feels his stomach churn because that's the thing- he does know that Musichetta will understand- probably too well.

Grantaire simply smiles once before scanning his eyes across the room for Enjolras- he's not hard to find, luminous blond curls and all.

"I couldn't find Combeferre to tell him I'm leaving but he should understand." Enjolras says when Grantaire catches up to him, unhooking his own jacket from the stand.

Grantaire pushes away the guilt because he knows where Combeferre is and it just feels so wrong that he should know whilst Enjolras is totally in the dark but- that's another problem completely.

"-I'll text him later." Enjolras continues, nodding to himself.

Grantaire also nods, because he sure as hell doesn't know what else to do, and settles himself for trailing alongside Enjolras as they walk down the many stairs from the apartment building.

"Your techniques last class were a great improvement." Enjolras says once they're outside, making the first attempt at conversation. Grantaire is painfully aware of how karate is the only thing they actually have in common (apart from, it seems, not drinking.)

He snorts. "Thanks."

"That wasn't an insult." Enjolras is frowning now and Grantaire could kick himself- apparently now he can't even go a full minute without making Enjolras unhappy with him. "You really are improving."

Grantaire doubts Enjolras even knows how patronising he can sound at times and Grantaire knows that it doesn't come from a place of malice or even superiority (Enjolras would probably cringe at the thought) but he can't seem to keep his tongue in check wherever Enjolras is concerned.

"Yeah, okay." Grantaire acquiesces, and then because that doesn't really conclude the issue and he really doesn't want to get coffee with Enjolras and have nothing to say. "You guys are just so advanced, you know? And I'm the newcomer who doesn't have a clue what he's doing just trying to keep up with you guys."

Enjolras takes another sip of his drink and considers Grantaire for a while before responding. Grantaire feels his face heat up under Enjolras' burning stare- he feels strangely vulnerable under the other man's scrutiny. "We all had to start somewhere. No, really," he says at Grantaire's scoff. "Have Joly and Bossuet told you about when I first started?"

Grantaire shakes his head and Enjolras smiles grimly. "I was awful." Grantaire makes a noise of protest and Enjolras laughs. "I was! I couldn't get my leg up higher than my waist and my co-ordination was terrible. I'm talking terrible, R."

Grantaire smiles then. Not so much from what Enjolras is saying (although the picture of Enjolras as anything less-than-perfect whilst performing _kata_ isn't an amusing image) but because of the nickname. _R._

"You dance, right?" Enjolras asks, startling Grantaire out of his reverie. "I'm pretty sure Bossuet mentioned that at some point."

"Here and there." Grantaire says, although he hasn't danced _seriously_  since his second year. Before.

"Then you must have some sort of co-ordination already. I didn't. Karate's really the only sport I've ever properly done before." Which okay, trust Enjolras to be amazing at the first thing he tries. "I think Cosette actually compared me to Bambi when he tries to walk across the ice before."

"Really?" Grantaire grins. "I always thought that was more of Marius' thing."

Enjolras smiles that small smile of his. "Socially, maybe. But karate wise? Marius is far better than most people give him credit for."

Grantaire hums rather than reply verbally. He doesn't know Marius well enough to judge, away from the few, short conversations he's had with the man.

"Just keep on coming to practice and you'll get better in no time." Enjolras says. Grantaire manages to bite his tongue this time, smiling and nodding along instead.

"So where are we going anyway?" Grantaire asks once they're a few blocks down.

"I know an all night coffee place just around the corner. If that suits you, that is?" Enjolras turns to look at Grantaire as they walk, eyebrows raised, and it takes a moment for Grantaire to realise he's waiting for an answer.

"Yep, fine with me. All night coffee. Sounds good."

Enjolras smiles, satisfied, and they continue walking in silence until Enjolras gestures to a red building, opening the door for Grantaire.

The shop is small, and pretty much exactly what Grantaire expected from a indie-slash-hipster place. Enjolras follows in after him, heading straight for the counter. He greets the barista with a friendly smile and before Grantaire knows it they've lapsed into comfortable small talk. Obviously Enjolras is a frequent customer, because the barista doesn't even ask his order, just starts making it as she chats idly to Enjolras.

"-And this is Grantaire," Enjolras is saying, which Grantaire takes as his cue to step forwards. "He goes to karate, too."

"Nice to meet you, Grantaire." A young-looking woman with short blonde hair and a warm smile. Her voice is soft and reminds Grantaire of someone, although he can't quite put his finger on who.

"Yeah, you too-" he stops, squints at her name tag, "Fantine."

Fantine smiles, "and what can I get for you Grantaire?"

"Black coffee, please." says Grantaire promptly. He'd thought about asking for his usual sugary abomination complete with three pumps of syrup but ultimately decides to go for something far less pretentious- he is with Enjolras after all, and he has no doubts that Enjolras would definitely raise his eyebrows at Grantaire's order. Not that Grantaire is trying to impress Enjolras, because he isn't. Not at all.

"Coming right up." says Fantine, and disappears behind the coffee machine to make his order.

Enjolras inclines his head towards a table near the window and Grantaire follows his lead. The shop has a nicer atmosphere than he'd expected- his nerves are still flaring from being here, alone, with Enjolras, but the distant chatter of the other occupants makes it significantly easier to feel more comfortable.

It's not long after they've settled that Fantine brings across a tray with their drinks. "One caramel macchiato with cream and one black coffee." she says, smiling. Which, okay, definitely makes Grantaire feel stupid about the whole black coffee thing.

Grantaire's thoughts must show on his face, for Enjolras cocks his head, bemused. "Didn't have you down as a sweet-toothed kind of guy, to be honest." Grantaire says in lieu of an explanation.

The corners of Enjolras' lips turn up, even is he takes a sip of his drink to hide it. "Oh?"

"More of an 'I've drank so many espressos that I'm practically immune to the effects of caffeine' kind of guy."

Enjolras makes a horrified expression. "Never. Why anyone would willingly drink something that tastes so vile is beyond me." he says, casting a significant glance towards Grantaire's cup.

"Hey, don't diss the coffee." Grantaire says, mock cradling the cup to his chest. (Even if he does secretly agree with Enjolras- coffee tastes horrible without any sugar but he refuses to go and add any; it's a point of pride now, and if he has to maintain this lie for the rest of his goddamn life, then so be it.)

Enjolras takes another sip of his far-better tasting coffee and Grantaire follows suit, not knowing what else to do. He fights the urge to grimace as the coffee travels down his throat, and hopes to god that his struggle isn't obvious from where Enjolras is sat.

There's only so long a person can pretend to sip coffee for, however, and it's not long before Grantaire finds himself desperately wishing a conversation topic would swoop down on them from above and save him from the entity that is Awkward Silence.

When it becomes clear that this is, in fact, not going to happen, Grantaire painfully tries to extend their coffee-talk.

"At least there's caffeine in black coffee." he says, at the same time as Enjolras begins to speak:

"So, I was wondering if-"

The feeling in Grantaire's chest is the emotional equivalent of missing a step when walking down a flight of stairs. At first, he feels like he's going to die, followed by a pressing and imminent sense of complete embarrassment. He can feel his cheeks on fire.

There's a pause loaded with awkwardness as Grantaire judges when it would be best to speak again. Enjolras' darker skin makes it harder to tell whether he's blushing or not, but he does clear his throat in a way that suggests discomfort.

"Apologies, carry on." Enjolras says at length, gesturing for Grantaire to continue.

Grantaire stumbles his way through clouded thoughts in a vain attempt to remember where he was actually going with the whole caffeine thing. "I was, uh, just saying- y'know, black coffee has more caffeine in it than... that," he says, gesturing to Enjolras' cup, "and you seem like someone who could use a lot of caffeine so... yeah."

As it turns out, Grantaire wasn't actually going anywhere with the whole caffeine thing.

Enjolras doesn't seem to mind however, and considers Grantaire's words with an amount of sincerity disproportionate to the matter at hand.

"I take caffeine tablets." he says, shrugging slightly. "They're handy, since I don't really enjoy coffee, and I can take them in the middle of studying rather than pausing to make a drink."

"Ah, so it's a laziness thing."

That coaxes a smile from Enjolras. "I'd actually call it a 'convenience thing' but essentially, I suppose so. Although tea is always nice, when I do fancy a drink."

"Tea _is_ always nice." Grantaire says, somewhat belatedly. The image of Enjolras curled up on the couch, nursing a warm mug of tea whilst reading a book or doing some other mundane task swims to the front of Grantaire's mind. He pushes it back with a vengeance.

They lapse into silence again. Grantaire's cup is now empty, but he pretends to take another sip nevertheless.

"So, that thing you wanted to ask me?" Grantaire tries to bring their conversation back to Enjolras, before he'd been interrupted by Grantaire.

Enjolras blinks, as if he'd forgotten he was about to ask Grantaire a question moments beforehand. "Oh, right, yes. I was wondering if you'd-"

But he cuts himself off, frowning at the insistent buzzing that seems to be originating from within his messenger bag. "Ah," he says, rifling through it. "Just a second."

Once Enjolras has retrieved his phone, he shoots Grantaire an apologetic glance before answering the call. "Combeferre? Yes, I'm with Grantaire. Getting coffee. Yes. No, it's fine, we'll walk back together, I won't be alone. Okay. Alright, I'll be there in a few minutes. Goodbye."

"Combeferre?" Grantaire asks as Enjolras hangs up the phone.

Enjolras sighs. "I'm his designated driver," he explains, before adding: "Without the driving part."

Grantaire laughs. "So you just... escort him home?"

"Pretty much." Enjolras shakes his head but he's smiling. "Our apartment isn't too far from Courf's but London can be pretty nasty at night. I'm not sure how drunk he is, but it pays to be safe. Besides, it's probably as much to my benefit as it is to his."

Grantaire nods, thinks about saying _'I understand'_  but decides against it. He probably doesn't, not in the way Enjolras and Combeferre would.

"You were going back anyway, right?" Enjolras says, pausing halfway through putting his jacket on.

Grantaire remembers Enjolras' phone call, remembers him saying  _'we'll walk back together'_  and feels the giddy feeling return.

"Yeah, yeah, no worries, man. I'll probably need to do the same for Musichetta and co, so it's cool."

Grantaire didn't really have a plan for after they'd gotten coffee but he supposes this is as good as any.

"It's surreal that Musichetta's back after so long." Enjolras says conversationally as they walk out.

"Tell me about it, I was just woken up on Wednesday and there she was, it was crazy."

Enjolras is smiling, soft and genuine. "I'm happy for Joly and Bossuet, they're always talking about how much they miss her."

"If it's anyone who deserves happiness, it's those two." Grantaire says, because Joly and Bossuet have done so much for him and he wholeheartedly believes they should be granted as much love as possible.

"I don't doubt that for a second." Enjolras says. He turns to Grantaire and smiles, his eyes creasing at the sides. Grantaire almost trips over his own feet, hastily righting himself and praying that Enjolras didn't notice.

They spend the rest of the walk back in companionable silence, and when they reach Courfeyrac and Marius' apartment, Enjolras locates a slightly tipsy Combeferre and parts ways with Grantaire.

"Goodbye, Grantaire." he says, extending a hand towards Grantaire just like he had done the first time they'd met. Grantaire takes his hand after a pause and Enjolras inclines his head once more before he withdraws his hand and retreats to find Combeferre.

Grantaire flexes his hand and pretends he doesn't think about the way Enjolras' palm had felt against his.

 

* * *

 

 

"Grantaaaaaaaaire!" Bossuet cries cheerfully once they're successfully a few streets away and in the enclosed space of their apartment. He walks towards Grantaire, something between a skip and a hop, laying a hand on Grantaire's shoulder when he's in reach. "You're such a good friend, R. And I'm not just saying that because I'm tipsy. We don't tell you enough and we should. We should!"

Musichetta laughs from behind Bossuet, where she's supporting most of Joly's weight. "Although I'd argue that Bossuet is definitely more than tipsy, I do agree that you're a good friend, R."

"See!" Bossuet cheers triumphantly. "'Chetta agrees. She's very clever, you know."

Grantaire laughs. "I know," he says, smiling. Behind Bossuet, Musichetta rolls her eyes.

Joly sighs. "C'mon Bossuet, time for bed."

Joly stumbles away from Musichetta, latching on to Bossuet as soon as Bossuet disentangles himself from Grantaire. They stay embraced like that for a while before Bossuet clumsily attempts to carry Joly bridal-style to their room. Grantaire feels his chest blossom into happiness for his two best friends; behind him, Musichetta chuckles.

"Quite a handful, those two." she says.

"Rather you than me." Grantaire quips back.

Musichetta smiles. "C'mere," she says, motioning him over with her hands.

Inexplicably, Grantaire feels a lump rise in his throat. He walks over to Musichetta and allows her arms to envelop him in a tight hug. "How're you doing?" Musichetta asks quietly. Grantaire shrugs his shoulders before realising that verbal communication will probably be more effective. Musichetta is evidently more sober than either of her boyfriends, and Grantaire can almost tell he won't get away with dodging her questions.

"I'm okay. Tonight was okay."

"Yeah?"

Grantaire hesitates a minute. "I was worried it'd be a lot worse, but I was fine." he admits eventually. He _had_  been anxious, at first- but then Enjolras had swooped in and he'd become anxious for a whole different reason.

"I'm glad." Musichetta rubs his shoulder gently. "If you ever need to talk, you know I'm here."

"I know." Grantaire echoes. He tries to retreat out of Musichetta's arms but she hugs him tighter for just a second before letting go.

"That includes things other than the alcoholism, you know." Musichetta continues, blunt and honest. "I mean it, you can come to me about whatever. If you want someone more impartial to discuss your love life with, I'm there. I don't know him as well as Joly and Boss, so-"

"Wait, wait- what? Who are we talking about?"

"Oh. I just thought- y'know what? Nevermind. Just know that I'm here to talk okay?"

Musichetta is staring at him intently and Grantaire is still rather puzzled by the whole affair so he just nods, shrugging. "Sure, yeah. Uh, thanks."

Smiling, Musichetta pulls him back into a hug- much shorter than the last- before wishing him goodnight and walking off to join Joly and Bossuet in bed.

Grantaire is left with a strange feeling in his gut and some very clouded thoughts in his mind- none of that which is helped by the text he receives from an unknown number, which, upon further investigation, turns out to be Enjolras. The message is a short one that reads:

 **Unknown number [10:32pm] :** Bossuet gave me your number, I hope that's alright. This is Enjolras.

Grantaire shoves the ridiculous happy feeling down but despite his best efforts, the grin that ends up fighting it's way onto his face remains there while he puzzles over how to text back.

 **You [10:47pm] :** bossuet is giving out my number to random blond guys who could v well be murderers?!?!? i'm gonna have to have a word with him

 **Enjolras [10: 48pm] :** If I were random, how would you know I was blond?

Grantaire has to bite his lip to stop himself from giggling like a toddler. What is _wrong_  with him? It's only a goddamn text message for heaven's sake.

 **You [10:48pm] :** lucky guess

 **You [10:48pm] :** also u didn't deny the murderer part

 **Enjolras [10:49pm] :** I'm not about to say anything that could incriminate me over text. You'll have to be smarter than that if you want a confession.

A laugh is stolen from his mouth as Grantaire processes the text. Enjolras is joking- with him. Enjolras actually possesses a sense of humour, who knew? Maybe it's only over text that he's this funny, but Grantaire really wishes Enjolras was this comfortable with him in person.

Is this what he has with the rest of his friends? Has Grantaire been missing out on the funny side of Enjolras because he was too determined to see him a certain way? Whatever the reason, he makes a vow to try and rectify it as soon as possible.

Grantaire is in the middle of composing a semi-intelligent comeback to Enjolras' message when another one comes through.

 **Enjolras [10:51pm] :** How would you feel about meeting me for lunch tomorrow? If you're free that is. I have something I'd like to discuss with you.

Grantaire doesn't know how to respond. So he doesn't. Five minutes pass while he's still staring at the screen blankly, attempting to formulate sentences over the keyboard. After ten minutes he's written and deleted three responses without sending any. At the fifteen minute mark, Enjolras texts again, evidently worried from Grantaire's lack of response.

 **Enjolras [11:06pm] :** I may have made that sound more sinister than intended. Nothing bad, I promise. It's about the club, but it'd be easier to explain in person.

This time, Grantaire finds it easier to responds. Puzzling out in his head what Enjolras could possibly want that'd be easier to explain in person, the pieces start to fit together. His conversation with Valjean and what Grantaire had overheard him talking about with Feuilly- that's probably all Enjolras wants to ask.

 **You [11:08pm] :** is this abt the thing w valjean ??

 **Enjolras [11:08pm] :** In part, yes. Are you free to meet at all?

Grantaire sighs. Trust Enjolras to be as cryptic in text as he is in real life.

As far as he can remember, Grantaire doesn't have anything going on tomorrow. There's his digital art lecture at twelve, but after that he's pretty much free all day. He tells Enjolras so.

 **You [11:12pm] :** i have a lecture @ 12 but i'm free after if that's any good?

 **Enjolras [11:13pm] :**  How do you feel about meeting at the Corinthe at one? It's the one we went to tonight.

 **You [11:15pm] :** yeah, that's cool. see u then?

 **Enjolras [11:15pm] :**   :-)

Grantaire spends a little bit too long staring at the emoji at the side of Enjolras' name. At this point he should probably just accept that he's never going to not be surprised by Enjolras.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, I hope I didn't overwhelm anyone with the 10000 subplots I'm trying to introduce :''') As always, comments would be greatly appreciated and I'd love to hear what you thought! <3
> 
> Find me on tumblr: [tattoograntaire](http://www.tattoograntaire.tumblr.com)


	5. Looking For A Cause

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Valjean wants some leaflets making. We're aiming to give them out a week from now, next Saturday at an open event for grass-roots sport's organisations that the club has been invited to. Potentially around campus, too, for anyone who wants to get involved in entry-level sport without the university status attached." Here he pauses, as if conflicted about whether to go on. "If you were willing- and you're in no means obligated, I know you've only just joined, and no one would blame you if you didn't want to be too involved- but if you were willing, it'd be your job to design the leaflets we could pass around to promote the club."
> 
> Grantaire is left speechless for a few seconds; all that and all Enjolras wants him to do is design a couple of leaflets? That Grantaire can do.
> 
> "Sure," he says once Enjolras is finished. "I'd be happy to."
> 
> Grantaire can practically see the tension draining out of Enjolras' face. "You will? It's no problem if you can't, really, we can-"
> 
> "Enjolras, I said it's fine, I can do it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the massive wait on this chapter, the technical details were killing me. As it is, I'm in a good position to write the next couple of chapters, so hopefully it won't be too long of a wait!
> 
> This chapter contains: intense procrastination, painful social interactions, and a Harry Potter marathon. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Grantaire enters the Corinthe five minutes prior to when him and Enjolras had agreed to meet. It's a testament to how much he's been paying attention to Enjolras when he doesn't even find himself surprised by the fact that Enjolras is there already, his blond hair visible from outside the cafe.

Grantaire goes to order before making his way over to where Enjolras is sat, nursing his own drink in front of him. He doesn't really have the money to spare but it'll give him something to do with his hands whilst he talks to Enjolras and at the minute that is definitely the bigger priority.

Carefully balancing his coffee in one hand and trying to fumble his change back into his wallet with the other, Grantaire approaches Enjolras- who apparently had been too involved with whatever he was reading to notice Grantaire's sudden appearance, if the way he'd flinched was any indicator.

"Grantaire, hi." he says, folding the paper into his lap before nodding to Grantaire.

"Hi," Grantaire says, because that's as far as he'd got when he was planning this conversation out in his head. "What were you reading?" he asks, needing Enjolras to fill the silence with something whilst Grantaire fumbles about in his bag.

A brief look of surprise flashes it's way onto Enjolras' face; maybe he hadn't expected Grantaire to ask, but nevertheless he gives an answer: "The big issue."

Grantaire almost wants to say _'of course',_  but he holds his tongue. "You actually read those?"

Enjolras scrunches up his nose. "Yes? Is there a problem I should be aware of there?" His tone is icy now.

"Not a problem, just, people usually buy those things to lessen their guilt before throwing them in the bin and continuing on with their happy little middle class lives."

Enjolras stares at him for a few very long seconds; Grantaire has no more reason to root around in his bag and he feels that it's becoming painfully obvious, so he's left with no other option but to face Enjolras' steely gaze head on. "That's a very cynical approach to take." he says eventually.

Grantaire shrugs. "That's what I do best." he says, flashing his best grin. Enjolras doesn't look impressed but merely shakes himself to rid himself of it. Grantaire suspects they're getting on to the reason he's here in the first place.

"I was told you were good at art." Enjolras begins, watching Grantaire closely.

Grantaire would call it a stretch to say that he's _good_  at art, but the overwhelming desire to prove himself to Enjolras wins out over his self-flagellation, so he responds with a curt nod. "I can produce decent stuff at times, yeah. Why?"

Enjolras takes a breath. "I'm getting to that." He looks conflicted briefly before continuing, sighing before meeting Grantaire's eyes determinedly. "I'm not going to sugarcoat it- the club is having some trouble. Valjean was involved in a lawsuit a while ago- legally it should be irrelevant now, as he was later acquitted because it was an unjust conviction, but word seems to have gotten out again, and now some of the parents are withdrawing their children from classes. I don't know if you've noticed but we've lost almost ten students in this month alone. The situation, as it stands now, is... not too great, to say the least."

Enjolras stops talking to observe Grantaire's reaction. Grantaire tries to keep his face neutral, but he can't help the initial shock that crosses over his features at the mention of Valjean. "Are you aware of how the ABC is funded?" Enjolras asks and Grantaire shakes his head.

"Valjean kick started the club with his own money, and to an extent that's still how we pay for a lot of additional costs- but to an equal extent we also rely on lesson fees from students- there's the rent of the building to consider, the equipment, the clothes, competition fees, insurance- you get the idea. We need the money from lessons to keep the amount people have to pay in at a low rate."

This doesn't make any sense to Grantaire; if the ABC are that desperate for money, why don't they just raise the price of entry? He asks Enjolras so and just receives a vehement shake of the head in response.

"No. Right now, the price is affordable, we couldn't risk making it any higher." At Grantaire's questioning mumble, he continues. "Valjean's biggest goal when starting this club was to have somewhere anyone could go to learn karate, he wanted it to be accessible to everyone- the low admission price enables us to do that, more so than it would otherwise. The lesson contribution is entirely voluntary and right now we're in a position where we can provide a certain number of free lessons if someone doesn't have the financial means to pay- the only problem is, to do that, we rely on the people who are making the contribution, and because of Valjean's past being brought into light, more and more people are pulling their kids out."

"Right," Grantaire says, because he's kind of at a loss right now. "So, uh, how does this concern my artistic abilities, exactly?"

"I said I was getting to it." Enjolras says, but he's almost smiling. "Valjean wants some leaflets making. We're aiming to give them out a week from now, next Saturday at an open event for grass-roots sport's organisations that the club has been invited to. Potentially around campus, too, for anyone who wants to get involved in entry-level sport without the university status attached." Here he pauses, as if conflicted about whether to go on. "If you were willing- and you're in no means obligated, I know you've only just joined, and no one would blame you if you didn't want to be too involved- but if you were willing, it'd be your job to design the leaflets we could pass around to promote the club."

Grantaire is left speechless for a few seconds; all that and all Enjolras wants him to do is design a couple of leaflets? That Grantaire can do.

"Sure," he says once Enjolras is finished. "I'd be happy to."

Grantaire can practically _see_  the tension draining out of Enjolras' face. "You will? It's no problem if you can't, really, we can-"

"Enjolras, I said it's fine, I can do it."

"You're sure you don't mind?"

"I'm sure." Grantaire almost wants to laugh at how seriously Enjolras is taking this.

"I'll send you the information I need included in it tonight- all you have to do really is format it and include some illustrations. I'd do it myself but," he raises his hands in a surrender like position, "Art isn't really my strong suit, I'm afraid."

Grantaire laughs, prompting a wry smile from Enjolras. "You're sure you can do it?" Enjolras asks again.

"Oh my god, I can, alright? I am perfectly capable of formatting text and drawing karate related images to go with it. I have photoshop, I know how to use photoshop, I promise you, I will not fuck this up."

Enjolras nods, once, and Grantaire finds himself startled at Enjolras' willingness to trust him. "Alright." Enjolras says, "I'll forward you the text and the photos, and you'll just need to send me the finished design before next Friday so I can make copies. I'm sorry the deadline is so tight but we need to gather the funding in order to start paying competition fees- the more competitions we enter and do well in, the more funding we receive. Of course, in order to do that we need money to actually enter them in the first place. So it's really pertinent that we have them before this coming weekend." Enjolras looks unsure again, as if the deadline is going to dissuade Grantaire from the task. "I know it's short notice-"

"Enjolras, it's _fine_. I'll have them to you by next Friday, alright?" Grantaire reassures. Enjolras still looks concerned, but he must push it away, because he regulates his expression back into a smile. "Just one question," Grantaire says, because he's remembering something Valjean told him the very first time he'd shown up to karate, "I though competition season was over? That the big competition thing you guys enter was in September?" He remembers _that_ particular conversation which Jehan and Montparnasse very well, thank you very much.

Enjolras hesitates, considering his answer. "Whilst I suppose that's technically true, the competition is in September, there's the qualifying that we have to go through first- that's in June, I believe- and entry fees have to be paid at least a month in advance. It's not a real concern for us, training-wise, because we're practically guaranteed to qualify, but it is a concern money-wise if we don't have the funds to enter."

It's a long explanation, yes, but Grantaire picks up the hidden meaning well-enough; The ABC needs the money from new students that they're expecting Grantaire's leaflets to bring. Suddenly there's a whole lot more pressure on Grantaire than he'd originally anticipated.

Enjolras is still staring at him imploringly, and Grantaire realises that he's once again asking if Grantaire wants to do this. Grantaire is growing more and more doubtful that he does, in fact, want to do this- but stronger than that feeling is the need to prove to Enjolras that he can do this, that he's worthy of... Well, Grantaire's not entirely sure what he's trying to prove, only that it's essential that he prove it.

"Next Friday, then." he says, nodding.

Enjolras nods back at him and, after one long moment he finally, _finally_ , stands up. "I'll get Joly or Bossuet to give me your e-mail, you can expect the files by tonight."

"Awesome." Grantaire says, giving Enjolras a thumbs up. Enjolras hesitates in the doorway for a few seconds before clumsily returning the gesture.

Enjolras closes the door behind him and Grantaire is finally able to savour the long awaited moment of letting his head drop to the table in front of him with a muffled 'thud'.

Behind him, the waitress he recognises as Fantine smiles as she cleans the table.

 

* * *

 

Ever faithful to his word, Enjolras does indeed send Grantaire the files that very same night.

Grantaire is initially surprised at the wealth of information Enjolras expects him to fit onto a single sided piece of paper, but after some contemplation he begins to get an idea of how he could work everything in.

It's not enthusiasm he's feeling about the leaflets, not exactly. Knowing that he's helping out Enjolras and, by extension, the entire ABC? It's enough to make Grantaire not totally dread the task he's just agreed to do.

"Are you sure it's a good idea to be taking on something extra when you've got all of your work with Gros to catch up on?" Joly asks when Grantaire comes home from meeting Enjolras.

"I'll be fine," Grantaire says, making a mental note to remember to spend less time in his room. The last thing he wants is for Joly or Bossuet to become suspicious about his workload.

"Okay." Joly says simply. "But if you're struggling- you can just tell Enjolras that you're not able to do it anymore. He's reasonable, he'd understand, and he definitely wouldn't hold it against you."

Grantaire hums. "If it gets too much, I'll speak to him." he says, if only to appease Joly. In reality, Grantaire has no intention of doing any such thing, but it doesn't hurt to agree.

It's obviously the right thing to say, anyway, because Joly's entire face brightens at Grantaire's words. "Speaking of Enjolras," he begins casually. "What's going on with you guys?"

Grantaire blinks. "What do you mean?"

Joly shrugs. "You've been hanging out a lot, that's all. Last night, this morning... I was just wondering."

"I don't know, it wasn't really planned or anything, just- circumstances required it, I guess."

Joly hums, sipping the leftover smoothie Musichetta had mode for him and Bossuet as a hangover cure earlier on this morning.

"How's Bossuet doing?" Grantaire asks. Earlier, Bossuet had been cheerfully complaining about the pain in his head and had left to take a nap just before Grantaire had left for his lecture.

"Still napping." Joly says, a grin forming on his features. "And Musichetta has a job interview, so it's just us two for now. Is your leaflet thing imminent or can you spare a night to watch Harry Potter?"

Grantaire smiles. "It depends. Which film are we talking about?"

Joly makes a face. "Philosopher's Stone, obviously." he says and Grantaire laughs.

"Count me in."

 

* * *

 

As it turns out, him and Joly don't stop after the first film. Next they watch Chamber of Secrets, and after that, Prisoner of Azkaban. Bossuet joins them somewhere during the middle of Order of the Phoenix and Musichetta enters just in time to catch the start of Deathly Hallows Part One.

As spontaneous and fun as impulsively watching the entire Harry Potter franchise is, Grantaire soon realises he's made a mistake.

He hasn't slept at all by the time his graphic design class rolls around and he'll forever be mystified by how he somehow manages to get to campus without falling asleep. He sits through the entire lecture without taking in a single thing- which, given the state of his grades and current academic predicament, is definitely not a good thing.

He falls asleep as soon as he gets inside and sleeps for almost eleven hours.

By Saturday, Grantaire has done nothing more than quickly skim through the information Enjolras gave him for the leaflets, and he's thus far managed to excuse it with the fact that he's got until Friday to complete them, so it's no big deal if he doesn't get started right away. Right?

It gets a little bit harder to excuse his prolonged state of not working on the leaflets as the week progresses, and by Monday he's almost purposefully avoiding opening the document Enjolras sent. Although, in Grantaire's defense, he at least tried to do something productive.

The e-mail he sends to Professor Gros is short and sounds awkward even to his own ears- but it's something. An olive branch, however pitiful and unappealing it may be, is still an olive branch.

Grantaire just hopes it will be enough to appease the old man.

It's not that he's had a sudden change of heart or realised how much he misses art as a subject- no, it's the overwhelming guilt he feels for lying to his friends. It's been three weeks since he first lied to Joly and Bossuet and he feels worse with every passing day. The only way to fix the problem before they find out is to suck up his pride and contact Gros.

The larger part of him insists that it's futile- Grantaire missed his chance and Gros is not a man who forgives easily- but another part, the smaller, more optimistic part, believes it can't hurt to try.

Grantaire's never been much of an optimist, but he's getting desperate, and if grovelling at Gros' feet is what it takes to get himself out of this situation, then that's what he'll have to do.

 

* * *

 

Grantaire has a spare hour between lectures on Tuesday, so he decides to spend it inside the classics library in the art department.

He hasn't studied classics since his first year, when he took an optional module on works inspired by historical texts. It was one of the more interesting times of his academic career, before everything went to hell. Grantaire tries very hard to forget that it was a module taught by Gros himself, and instead busies himself with perusing the shelves, looking for something to distract him for the next forty minutes or so.

What he finds, instead, is a wandering Combeferre, who seems to be examining each book with equal consideration as he browses, only putting one back to pick up another.

Grantaire does his best not to be seen. Ducking around a shelf, he focuses on making a discreet exit. Things haven't been awkward between him and Combeferre, not exactly- but only because Grantaire has done everything within his power to avoid the other man. They were never particularly close, but after catching him sneaking around with Courfeyrac, Grantaire feels it especially pertinent to keep it that way, although he couldn't say for certain why that is.

After roughly fifty seconds of trying to slow his breathing and sneak away to a different floor, Combeferre speaks.

"I know you're there, Grantaire."

Grantaire takes a second to silently utter every blaspheme he knows before sheepishly walking to face Combeferre. "Hi." he says rather lamely.

"Hi." Combeferre says, amusement hidden in his tone. "Are you hiding from me?"

"No." Grantaire says immediately, closely followed by, "Well, maybe a little bit."

Combeferre chuckles awkwardly. Grantaire can tell that they're having this conversation out of necessity, not because Combeferre suddenly decided that he fancied a conversation. "I apologise if I made you feel uncomfortable the over day. I understand why you may not feel like you can talk to me, but I don't want what happened to define your impression of me."

Grantaire swallows. What is he supposed to say to that? "It's fine, honestly." And then, because that surely can't be all Combeferre wants from this library ambush: "I promise I'm not going to say anything. To anyone. I realise I'm the new kid here, so it'd be incredibly presumptuous of me to assume I know how your group functions better than you do. Whatever reasons you guys have for not telling everyone, y'know, that's not my place to judge. You're fine."

Combeferre regards him steadily for what feels like minutes to Grantaire. Just when he feels like he can't bear the silence anymore, Combeferre speaks. "Thank you. I appreciate it, and I know Courfeyrac will too."

Feeling distinctly uncomfortable, Grantaire merely shrugs. "Sure. I mean, I don't want to mess up anything for anyone. I'd hate to be That Guy." He hopes Combeferre can sense the capitalisation he intends that to be heard with.

"I'm sure you won't be." Combeferre says, his smile much gentler than Grantaire feels like he deserves. "Have you spoken to Enjolras recently?"

The abrupt change of topic leaves Grantaire silent for far longer than could be considered normal. "Thursday was the last time I saw him."

"He asked me to remind you about the leaflets." And, oh, okay, Grantaire sees how they got here. Somehow Combeferre assuring him that he wasn't going to fuck up led to Combeferre reminding him not to fuck up. Figures. "I know he probably hasn't said but it means an awful lot to him, that you're willing to do this for the club."

Grantaire thinks back to the barely opened document sitting on his laptop at home and tries not to hate himself so violently. "He shouldn't worry, it's no problem, honestly."

"Nevertheless, we all appreciate you doing this. Myself included."

Grantaire manages to hold Combeferre's gaze for approximately three seconds before he shuffles awkwardly on the spot and gives a quick excuse about needing to leave for his next lecture.

Outside, Grantaire takes a deep breath and commits himself to starting the goddamn leaflets as soon as he gets home.

 

* * *

 

"Grantaire, I think they messed up your timetable."

Grantaire's head snaps up from his laptop, which he's been staring at helplessly for the past half hour. "What do you mean?" he asks Joly, who is frowning as he holds the crumpled piece of paper that has Grantaire's class schedule on it.

"There aren't any modules with Gros on here," he says, frowning and waving the paper at Grantaire, "We only got these two weeks ago, so yours should've been updated, right?"

Grantaire feels like he's sinking. Quicksand hadn't been as much of a problem in his adult life as he'd anticipated as a child, but right now he empathises dramatically with the cartoon heroes of his youth.

"Are you sure that's my newest one?" asks Grantaire, heart thumping wildly.

"Of course it is. It has the date on the top, see? I was just looking for when you had your next digital art seminar, because Feuilly was interested in observing, but I noticed there's a distinct lack of Gros on here."

Putting the laptop aside, Grantaire walks up and takes the timetable from Joly, pretending to examine it. His brain is coming up with a hundred excuses a minute, although there's a part that urges him to drop the act and tell the truth.

He ignores that part.

"Ah, no, right- I hadn't decided on a set module yet, I was still working things out with Gros. So they couldn't timetable me in at the same time as the other part of my course, where I'd already chosen my modules. I have the updated version on my phone." Which is a complete lie, and one Grantaire really hopes Joly doesn't question further.

Joly squints at him, and then back at the timetable. "You'd tell us if something was wrong, right?" he asks eventually.

Grantaire nods, feeling himself sink deeper.

Joly hums, not quite appeased, but he does drop the subject, "So, about Feuilly..."

After that, Grantaire loses any and all resolve he has to start working on the leaflets. Which is fine, really, he can just do them tomorrow- Thursday at the very latest. It's not like he hasn't done last-minute projects before; in fact, he became very adept at half-assing papers in his second year- before he'd stopped trying altogether, that is.

Not that Grantaire particularly wants to half-ass anything concerning the ABC, least of all anything concerning Enjolras. But, well- what else is he supposed to do? Motivation doesn't come easy and Grantaire's certainly not motivated enough to actually make a start.

Whenever motivation actually comes, it never seems to last very long. Wednesday arrives sharp and clear and Grantaire spends most of his time thinking about how he hasn't started the leaflets. He does do some mediocre graphic design templates on his tablet, but it takes an hour at most, and then he's back to staring at his empty laptop screen.

At karate that night Enjolras strides up to him, a tiny smile on his face. Grantaire tries not to feel so queasy. "Hey, R, how are you doing?"

There's a pang in his chest, as there always is, when Enjolras calls him 'R' but this time the effect is exuberated by the familiar, jittery pangs of anxiety. "I'm good. Yourself?"

"Good. Listen, I wanted to ask how the leaflets are coming along, but I didn't know how to approach the subject over text without making it seem like I was pressuring you, or rushing you. I thought it'd be best to ask when we can communicate in person."

He pauses for a lengthy period of time and it's only when his smile starts to slip that Grantaire realises that _was_  Enjolras' way of asking him about the leaflets.

"Oh. Uh, right, yeah, probably best. They're coming along pretty well, actually. I just have to finalise the designs and we're all set."

Grantaire hates himself a little bit more with every second that passes, but what else is he supposed to do? His own disappointment he can bear, but having Enjolras be disappointed in him may just be the worst thing imaginable. Questionably unhealthy, maybe so, but that's just the way it is, so Grantaire's going to have to deal with it.

"That's great to hear, honestly. I really appreciate you doing this."

Grantaire nods, his throat tight. _Don't appreciate it yet_  he almost says.

Enjolras makes a movement as if to lay a hand on Grantaire's shoulder, but Grantaire- for reasons unbeknownst to himself- flinches away instinctively before the hand makes contact. Enjolras withdraws his hand quickly, as if scalded.

"Sorry." he says quickly. "Sorry, I shouldn't have-" He takes a deep breath, and just like that, the calmness of his smile is back as he speaks quietly. "Thank you."

Grantaire watches from the corner of his eye as Enjolras walks back towards the front of the class, trying to let his breath come in short intervals rather than all at once.

Fortunately, he doesn't have much time to dwell on the interaction, for a moment later Valjean calls everyone to attention, and the chatter from the class dies down almost immediately.

"June is coming up." Valjean begins solemnly, and the attitude in the room immediately shifts. It's only mid-April but no-one seems to bring this up. Behind him, Bahorel is jittery, bouncing from foot to foot as Jehan shoots Grantaire a significant look. In front of him, Enjolras is standing tall to attention, and the rest of the class is much the same. "Whilst it may still seem like early days, I'd like us to start preparing for the East London competition qualifying round. As you all know, we need a competition team of at least ten in order to compete, but I'm hoping that shouldn't be a problem for us. If we focus on our entries these next few weeks, I think we'll have a smooth run."

Valjean nods at Joly once he's done and Grantaire watches on curiously as his friend makes his way over to the front of the hall. "Hey guys," Joly says, earning him a response of 'Hey, mate' from Courfeyrac. "I just wanted to let you all know, now that everyone's together, that I won't be able to compete this year. I've been strongly advised not to put unnecessary strain on my leg, so I'm out of this one I'm afraid."

Joly must be one of the happiest people Grantaire knows; even now he's smiling, waving off concerns and joking with his friends despite the rather heavy subject at hand. Grantaire sometimes wishes he could be more like Joly.

He'd known Joly was having more trouble with his leg than usual, but he didn't know he'd been advised not to compete because of it. Nevertheless, he claps along with the rest of the group when Joly announces that, instead of competing, he's going to be a part of the official competition medical crew.

"Enjolras, Eponine, and Jehan, I'd like you to enter in both sides of the competition." Valjean continues, gesturing to each person as he says their name. "Cosette, Bahorel, Courfeyrac, and Feuilly will be entering the sparring side. Marius, Bossuet, and Combeferre will be competing in the kata presentation. Unless you have any issues with any of that, I suggest we all get practicing."

No one, apparently, does. "Grantaire?" Valjean calls back to him just as the group begin to disperse. Grantaire pauses before spinning around to face Valjean. "I didn't want to call on you in front of everyone, but would it be possible for you to be a team reserve? In the event that someone becomes unable to participate."

"Uh, sure? I mean, I'm no good at karate yet, but if I'm not actually going to have to compete, then sure, why not."

Valjean smiles. "Good. You may not have as much skill as the others now, but you have great potential."

For a split of a second, Grantaire sees Gros in Valjean's position. _"You have so much potential, Grantaire!"_ in that loud, demeaning voice. Valjean is nothing like Gros, but the comparison sticks with him, until he has to grit his teeth in order to carry on smiling.

Maybe it's just a fact that adults don't seem to realise how condescending the whole 'potential' thing is. Grantaire knows, he's heard it a lot.

Nodding awkwardly, he walks up next to Joly and Bossuet, laughing and joking whilst Bossuet misses a kick to the sparring pad Joly is holding up for him.

"Having fun?" he asks from behind, making Bossuet jump.

"R, man! What's up?" he says cheerfully.

"Apparently I'm a team reserve for you guys now," Grantaire says, doing a weak display of jazz hands to accompany his non-existent enthusiasm. "Guess I'm officially a part of this thing."

"Of course you are." says a voice that doesn't belong to either Joly or Bossuet. Turning around with a certain feeling of trepidation, Grantaire braces himself for the interaction that's about to happen.

"You've been one of us ever since you came that first week," Enjolras continues, "Or, since you decided to keep coming, at least."

How does he respond to that? "Thanks, man. That's uh.. That's really..." Grantaire will never understand his inability to express gratitude, but thankfully he doesn't have to think about it too long. Bossuet, his knight in shining armour, comes to his rescue.

"Hi Enjolras. We still having that film night at your place next week?"

Enjolras looks vaguely shocked for a second, as if he hadn't anticipated the question. Then he looks down at the ground before his expression darts straight back up to Grantaire's face.

"Yes, we are. That's why I came over actually. To invite Grantaire."

Enjolras looks at him imploringly, and again, Grantaire falters at the indirect way of being asked a question. "Uh, what are we talking about again?" he asks, if only to buy some time.

Eyes widening slightly, Enjolras nods to himself. "Right. It's sort of a tradition, usually a few weeks before we're required to get back into a competition routine. We all gather round at my apartment and watch bad karate films. Would you like to join us?"

"Bad karate films? Why _bad_ karate films?"

Enjolras smiles a slight bit. "Have you ever seen a _good_  karate film?"

Grantaire has barely seen any karate films, but he's not going to admit that. He shakes his head.

"Well that answers your question then. Now will you answer mine?"

Grantaire bites his lip as he mulls it over. "Okay." he says eventually. Why the fuck not? "What day?"

"Next Tuesday."

"Sure. If I'm free, that is." Grantaire knows he's not busy on Tuesday, knows he doesn't have any lectures, or seminars, or even self-scheduled study sessions. But still, he has to maintain some level of plausible social-life in front of Enjolras. The _'why?'_ of the whole thing is something Grantaire refuses to ask himself.

"Great! I'll see you then. After Friday, obviously."

Grantaire realises just a moment too late what the significance of Friday is. "Huh?"

Enjolras freezes. "Friday? For the leaflets? Grantaire-"

"No, right, okay, I remember. Sorry, I just- got caught up in my head, don't mind me, it just happens sometimes, I know what Friday is, definitely, it just slipped away from me for a second there. Ha ha."

Enjolras looks even more uneasy by the time Grantaire has finished. Joly and Bossuet have politely turned away. Grantaire can practically feel his ears turning red in embarrassment.

"Okay." Enjolras says eventually. "Just as long as you haven't forgotten."

"I swear I haven't." Grantaire says, hand over his heart, the utmost gesture of sincerity.

"Good. See you Friday."

"See you Friday."

Once Enjolras is out of hearing range, Grantaire lets out a deep groan. Bossuet reappears at his shoulder, Joly behind. "There, there." Bossuet says, patting him sympathetically.

 

* * *

 

When Musichetta opens the door to Grantaire's room mid-Thursday afternoon, she probably doesn't expect to see him curled up on his bed, surrounded by torn sketchbook pages, his laptop sitting open next to him.

"Not a good time?" she asks; Grantaire can only imagine what she must be thinking.

"Terrible time." he replies, eyes fixed on the ceiling. "Awful time. Insidious, despicable, detestable, utterly vile, horrid-"

"Okay, woah." Grantaire feels the bed dip down as Musichetta seats herself on the edge. "Stop spewing adjectives at me and talk. What's up?"

Grantaire doesn't want to tell her what's up, doesn't want to tell anyone, doesn't even want to tell himself. Saying it out loud, telling someone- that makes it real, and Grantaire doesn't think he can handle just how much of a colossal fuck up he is if he has to say it all out loud. Instead he shrugs. "Tell me your good news instead." he says, a suitable compromise.

Musichetta doesn't smile, but he can tell she's pleased. "How'd you know it's good news. Could be awful, insidious, despicable, terrible-"

"Okay, okay, I get the point. Now what is it?"

There's a silence, but apparently Musichetta can't keep him in suspense for too long, for she excitedly bursts out, "I got a job!"

Grantaire makes an effort to pull himself up into something vaguely resembling a sitting position. "No way! That's awesome, 'Chetta, I'm really pleased."

Musichetta beams. "Yep. It's at the beauty salon where Eponine works. Nothing too fancy but it's enough to enable me to stay here until next semester. Pretty great, right?"

"Pretty great? Try amazingly great. Awesomely, absolutely, non-comparatively-"

"Shut the fuck up, R." Musichetta says elbowing him in the shoulder, but she's smiling. It's almost enough to make Grantaire forget about the absolute mess he's gotten himself into.

"Still want to hear about my crap?" he asks, giving them both one last chance to back out.

Musichetta raises her eyebrows at him, a silent _'you bet'_ conveyed through her eyes alone. Grantaire sighs.

"You know those leaflets? The ones Enjolras asked me to do?"

Musichetta's eyes narrow, but she nods.

Grantaire takes a deep breath- this is the hard part. "I haven't done them."

There's a silence. Grantaire feels like he's shrinking smaller and smaller with every second that passes, until finally- finally, Musichetta speaks. "Fuck."

Grantaire laughs, though it comes out bitter. "Yeah."

"Fuck, Grantaire. When did he ask you to do them?"

Grantaire closes his eyes. "Last Friday."

Neither of them speak for a while. "That was almost a week ago."

Grantaire hums in agreement.

"Alright, shit. What are you going to do?"

His eyes snap open. "What do you mean?"

Musichetta is looking at him with a degree of solemnity he's not used to seeing in her expression. "I mean, what are you going to do? Could you complete them if you started right now, as in, right this second? If not, would it be possible to ask him for an extension? Are you going to ring him up and apologise and tell him you can't do it? Whatever it is, you need to do something."

Grantaire knows this, he knows, and for some reason, Musichetta repeating it to him is only serving to irritate him further.

"I was planning on ignoring it until he hunts me down and murders me for it."

"That's not funny, R."

Grantaire shrugs.

"I'm serious, it's not. Maybe it's easier for you that way, but if Enjolras needs to make alternative arrangements for those leaflets, it'll be a lot easier on him the sooner you let him know."

There's so much guilt churning in Grantaire's stomach that he feels almost physically ill. "I can't. I can't do that to him."

Musichetta looks around Grantaire's room, at the strewn paper and overflowing bin. "It looks as if you already have."

 

* * *

 

"Hello? Grantaire is that you?"

Grantaire wants to laugh, because who the fuck else would be calling Enjolras from Grantaire's phone? "Yes, it's me." is all he says.

A pause.

"Is everything alright?"

"It's about the leaflets." he says, and gives a second for that to sink in. When no reply seems forthcoming he continues, "When do you need them done by, exactly? I know you said Friday originally, but is there any chance you could, I don't know, extend that?"

There's silence on the other end of the line for an almost discouraging amount of time. "Enjolras?"

"Why?" Enjolras says eventually. Grantaire winces- it's not like he didn't expect the question, but it's still not going to be easy, having to explain the exact details of how he fucked up.

"I might need a little more time to complete them. It's getting there but I'm- I'm going to be honest here, I'm a long way from being done."

Another distressing silence. When Enjolras speaks, his voice is quieter, as if the receiver is further away from his face. Grantaire really hopes he's not on speaker. "I- there isn't- couldn't you have let me know this sooner?"

Enjolras' voice has taken on a frustrated tone and Grantaire screws his eyes shut upon hearing it. "I'm sorry, I thought I'd have enough time today but I just..." his sentence trails off pathetically.

Enjolras' sigh is audible through the speaker. "Right. That's- that's really inconvenient, if I'm being honest. If you're sure you'll have them done in time- and I mean, _absolutely_ sure Grantaire, I can't have you being anything less than one hundred percent sure- I suppose I could print them out the morning before the event. That gives you until tomorrow night. Will that be enough time? Tell me now if it's not."

Grantaire takes a deep breath. Supposing he starts working right away, he could easily have the leaflets done by tomorrow night. He only has one lecture tomorrow, but it's not mandatory so in theory he'd be able to stay home and work on nothing but the leaflets...

"It'll be enough time, yes."

"You're absolutely sure?"

He's not. "Yes, I am."

"Okay." Enjolras pauses for a long time, long enough to make Granaire wonder if he ended the call, but then he speaks again. "A lot depends on this, Grantaire. I'm counting on you."

The receiver clicks off before Grantaire can reply.

 

* * *

 

It's half past three on Saturday morning when Grantaire finally finishes the leaflets, after a long day of psyching himself up to the task. He cries out triumphantly when he has the final design saved, Joly, Bossuet, and Musichetta cheering him on.

Neither Joly or Bossuet had been pleased to hear of Grantaire's procrastination. The look of utter disappointment on Joly's face when he'd told them may haunt Grantaire's dreams for a long time coming.

Nevertheless, he'd told them of his and Musichetta's hastily conducted plan and they'd agreed immediately to help in any way possible. Four and a half cups of coffee later, and Grantaire is suitably buzzing where he sits, the design finished and waiting to be attached to the e-mail he's sending Enjolras.

"You did it, R." says Bossuet, and he's tired, Grantaire can see that, but he stayed up, and there's nothing Grantaire could ever do to express how thankful he is.

"Eventually." Grantaire agrees. He can't exactly count it as a victory, because of the absolute mess he's made, but it's not exactly a failure either.

"Well, I'm going to bed." Musichetta announces, although Grantaire can tell it's more for Bossuet's sake than her own. "Goodnight, Grantaire." she ruffles his hair as she passes and Grantaire tries not to smile too widely at that.

Joly and Bossuet bid him goodnight too, and he resolves to buy all three of them all the fairtrade chocolate they could possibly eat the next time he goes out in the city.

Grantaire skims over the e-mail he typed up and presses send before he has a chance to overthink it.

The message is a short one, inspired by his sleep deprived, coffee-fuelled brain that reads:

_here are your leaflets, told u i wouldn't fuck it up ;)_

It's flippant and probably not something he'd sent were he fully awake, but hopefully it disguises any hint that he almost _did_  fuck it up.

Closing his laptop, Grantaire collapses into bed the second he steps foot into his room, asleep almost before his head even hits the pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone actually still reading this fic: thank you so much, your support means the world to me <3 
> 
> Every single kudos means more to me than I can express in words, but your feedback is essential to me as a writer- so please don't be afraid to use the little box down there and leave a comment!


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